Flowers
by alysrose
Summary: Corporal Esther Williams had borne witness the end of the world on many occasions. Her world revolved around loss, death and war. With the end of the world hot on her heels, she must do what is right for her country, but the fire is burning beneath her feet and she knows she has limited time to get away all the while keeping her comrades safe. [Slow burn Daryl/OC]
1. 1:0 - Canary

Author's Note: I've been writing this story for a year now and I've only just plucked up the courage to upload it! And I am so excited!

This is an AU version of the show, and this basically means, for this story, that it doesn't follow the timeline of the show or comic. Events that have happened in the show and comic will be explored, however, they won't be in the same order as such. There will also be scenes completely created by myself.

The story will be in parts, consisting of ten chapters per part. There will be explorations of a lot of the characters which I hope you enjoy!

I own nothing except for my OC.

I think that's it for now, so please enjoy!

* * *

Part One

..

Prologue

_Canary_

**.x.**

It had been just a normal day when the dead started coming back to life.

A typical Monday; where the citizens of the world began their day with a grunt, and a stretch, and a thought to how quickly the weekend had passed them by. People went about their weekly routine, heading to their respective establishments whether it be to school or work or, more leisurely, to the gym or coffee shop to meet friends.

It was just a normal day.

Except, it was anything but. It was their last day of normality, where the only thing important was what they were having for lunch, or whether they would get to the end of their to-do list. It had been their last day where they were truly free, and where nothing in the world mattered. The world was changing around them; minute by minute, second by second, and no one realised just how different the world was capable of being.

And for many, it was the last day of their lives; their deaths just a mere few hours away. But for most, it was the start of a long journey of survival where death was on every corner or a lapse of judgement away.

**.x.**

Macon was hit first.

Shit had well and truly hit the fan in a local diner when an elderly gentleman called Dennis Hopper complained of flu-like symptoms whilst enjoying breakfast with his wife, Angie. His condition worsened considerably within minutes, and before his beloved wife of fifty-one years let out a scream so full of pain and heartache that confirmed his death to the other patrons of the diner.

Except, he didn't die.

Not in the sense that many would conjure up. His body stilled and his wife held him as the sirens sounded outside the thick windows of the diner, their flashing lights dancing and reflecting against the surfaces around them. Angie had held him long after the EMT's arrived and it was only after she thought of their beloved grandchildren and what she would say to them about their grandfather's passing did she allow them to work on his frail and ever so heartbreakingly still body.

They worked on him but to no avail. His body having been feeble and frail after many years of hard manual labour to keep a roof over his head and food on the table for his wife and children. Angie sobbed in the chest of a stranger, a kind hearted woman who knew nothing about their lives had offered her the comfort she needed in those crucial moments, and who held her up when the EMT's stopped working on Dennis.

She had held him once more; his body colder than it had been. She stroked his cheek the way she always did when he was ill or when he was sleeping. Teenage sweethearts had fought together to create a life together that people who knew them hoped for, a love like no other, and a love that people would hope to find one day. But they had it; they had spent so many years fighting for one another that today was not something they imagined would happen.

As she cradled him in her arms, she felt a breath escape him; and as she lifted her head up to tell the EMT's that he was breathing, that he had returned to her, her husband of fifty-one years, tore a chunk out of her neck.

No-one escaped the diner that day. Husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, daughters and sons never stood a chance.

**.x.**

The US Army was called almost immediately.

Extra precautions were taken and all targets within the diner was shot on sight, and their bodies were taken to the CDC immediately. Everyone called to the site believed it to be contained and, with testing underway, they thought it was the end to whatever it was. But nothing in life is ever simple. Blood from a _geek_ – an endearing term conjured up by the military – had seeped through a cut in the glove and into the torn skin on a hand of a scientist that had been called to assist.

It took a few days before the symptoms she was experiencing to truly take hold and, whilst her and her team were working tirelessly to figure out what the cause was, she collapsed and died at home. And like Dennis Hopper and his victims, she woke up and unlike Dennis, she ravaged her husband to death whilst he slept.

And like dominoes, the end of the world as they knew it was in sight. More and more people were becoming infected and, before anyone realised it, it was an epidemic. The military was sent in and given control; all the time testing was still being conducted at the CDC. Safe zones were addressed, and safety procedures were put in place. But it seemed as though all hope was lost.

The world was irrecoverable.

Lost.

Gone.

But no-one wanted to admit that, not even when death stared them in the face and wiped millions of lives off the face of the earth.


	2. 1:1 - This Woman's Work

_Author's Note: So, here is the first chapter. I really hope you enjoy it._

_Warning: Some moderate swearing._

* * *

Part One

..

One

_This Woman's Work_

**.x.**

_One Week Later_

The world around her was looking more and more bleak with each day that passed her by. The world around her now had been thrown into the depths of sheer panic, where the urgency of human nature overrode instinct and caused any rational thought process and logic to become irrational in every sense. She had seen the world in varied conditions before, but this was unsettling in every way; and one she couldn't control no matter how much she tried.

People were petrified, and their minds and judgement weren't clear.

The screams that filled the night sky was a vast amount, one that had grown to a crippling amount over the last few days. The people at the fences were only doing what they were told to do by the numerous news reports: to find the closest safe zone and stay there. And the soldiers were only doing what they were ordered to do and that was to keep the civilians in order until they got word of the situation.

_All are welcome. Everyone will be safe._ _There's room for everyone._

But there wasn't. And there was no guarantee of safety when Esther herself didn't know if that was true. Esther had scoffed when she had heard that. The sea of people who had flocked to the Atlanta Safe Zone had been a staggering amount, and she hadn't realised just how many people would leave their homes to find a slither of hope, a chance at finding salvation in a world dead set against every living soul. If she had any choice of where she could be right now, it would not be here. If she had any choice in where she was, it would be in her apartment, glugging down the bottle of whisky she kept in the cupboard, turning a blind eye at the shit show of a world outside her window.

The assigned safe zones were overwhelmingly full, reaching capacity quicker than any of them realised and expected. And though she wanted to promise the world to them all, promise them that they would be safe for the night, all she could do was to keep looking forward and ignore the cries of exhausted and scared children as they clung to their equally scared parents who were unable to offer them the protection and comfort they desperately needed. She saw the defeat on their faces, knowing that they couldn't keep their child safe in that instance.

She felt defeated.

The fences stood tall behind her, an intruding metal barrier that prevented her from having the protection that others desperately sought. Her and her colleagues – Fisher, Jeffries and Wilson – all stood side by side, weapons poised in their arms, eyes forward, chin high. The military personnel stood defiantly in front of the large gate and were positioned up on the guard towers above them; providing them with some protection if things turned nasty down in the trenches.

The days had passed by in an exhaustive blur: travelling to Atlanta in their numbers, being assigned their roles within the safe zone, and taking it in turns to man the outpost. Their main mission was to contain the outbreak and filter through civilians and to ultimately take them away from the cities.

Their ultimate mission, however, was to obliterate the cities that were affected badly. If it came to it. Esther had winced at that, hoping with every inch of her that that wouldn't be the case. The code word was one that was filled with life but truly meant death of everything.

_Flowers._

All she could do was wait and bring some sort of order in the world quickly turning upside down and inside out; everything she was trained for was for this moment, in a way, and there was only so much she could do.

She had seen the true devastation of the world in terms of war; she had witnessed the trials and tribulations of politics and the damaging effects it had on innocent countries. And though this was different, it would change the course of events for the world dramatically. In the blink of an eye, the world had turned on its head and Mother Nature was claiming back all that she created.

"Please, I am begging you… let us in…" the mother cried, as she held her daughter close to her chest. She clung to her mother as if her life depended on it; and Esther had to wonder if that was the case, did all their lives depend on this? Had this been the signal to the end? She observed the mother, whose hair was shaved short with specks of grey protruding through the brown, and daughter, whose brown hair clung to her face from the tears that were streaming endlessly down her cheeks, with an expression of sheer pity.

Operation Z was a simple name for something not quite understood to them as of yet. This, in every sense, was in that category. An epidemic, maybe. An outbreak, possibly. But Esther had as many questions as the innocent civilians around her; and all the questions they had were being left unanswered.

"Ma'am, I have orders that I must abide by," Esther said, her gaze falling upon her. "If I let you in, then I have to let all of you in. Unfortunately, there is a small setback. But we're working hard to get through the admissions. It won't be for much longer."

"If you weren't just standing around acting like you're better than us and actually do something then maybe we'll be able to get through those gates, huh?" a man, stern and mean, scoffed. His comment was ignored by the woman next to him.

"Do you promise?" she asked, and Esther could tell from the way her eyes looked back at her that she had seen things that Esther hadn't seen before. "The dead are walking, and we have to wait to be processed? People are ripping people apart. Do you have any reason why?"

Esther furrowed her brow, her mind racing at the information given to her by the woman. She stole a glance with Fisher who had overheard the conversation and had a similar look of confusion heavy on his face.

"Excuse me," Esther could only say as she moved towards Fisher. As soon as she came close to him, he widened his eyes in shock. "You hear what she said?"

Fisher nodded and ran an exhausted hand over his face. "The fucking dead are walking? What the actual fuck is this thing?"

Esther could only shrug as she scanned the surrounding area. Hordes of people were forcing their way through the sea of people to get to the front, desperation clouding their judgement. "If this continues, we're going to have an issue on our hands. Have you heard from Ford?"

"Not since this morning," Fisher answered, and he and Esther shared a worried look. That was out of character for Ford, even on his bad days, he was around. The very fact that neither of them had seen him since the morning sent them in a tailspin.

"I'm going to check on the back," Esther said. "I need to know what the hell is going on here. If we're in the dark and those civilians know more than us, then there's a problem. How come we only know this as Operation Z and not the fact that people are ripping other people apart?"

Fisher could only shrug. "Got it. Be careful, Williams."

"You too," she said with one last glance at the burgeoning crowd, before she moved towards the gate, trying hard to ignore the cries of the people around her. There was only so much she could hear; when she had been on the frontline when death was almost certain, it seeped into the dark parts of her heart and mind that were numbed from the amount of death she was witness to. Even with the amount of darkness in the world, there had to be some light.

But it was as though she was always running towards the light before it was snatched from her. Esther Williams had been to the depths of hell and back. Her first mission back after months of rehabilitation, and this was not what she was expecting. She had been pulled away from her trip to Afghanistan and ordered to travel to Atlanta with her squad. She hadn't questioned it, but perhaps she should've. If the dead were rising then she needed to know.

She pulled her badge to the scanner and with a beep to confirm her entrance into the back, she saw the commotion around her. The soldiers who had stood beside her when in war were frantically calling the military back in Washington, a look of sheer panic upon their faces. The people who had been allowed access, filtered through at thirty at a time, were being tested and swabbed. She watched as a doctor placed a machine upon the forehead of a man where it beeped red almost immediately, and two of her squad – May and Kilner – pulled the man away to the cells. Esther remained watching the doctor as he moved over to another civilian and the machine beeped green in response. The woman looked as though she was going to collapse at the result and was marched to a metal compound.

Esther furrowed her brow and scanned the area. Her eyes fell on Lieutenant Charles Mathers, her superior, who was sat at a table, his radio placed upon the surface. She closed the gap between them, and her footing seemed to cause his attention to snap back to reality as he looked up at her.

"I need a word," she said, her voice strong and undeterred.

He tipped his head, motioning for her to sit in the chair opposite him. "What is it?"

Esther, however, remained standing. "What is this?"

Her question was brief and lacked any true information, but he understood it completely. He stared at her for a moment, took in the heavy brow that seemed as though it had always been a permanent feature on her face. But the answer he gave was not the one she wanted to hear.

"What is what?"

Esther scoffed and shook her head. "Operation Z. Why weren't we informed that this referred to the compromise of other humans?"

"Williams, you're a smart soldier," Mathers began to explain. "But this doesn't concern you. Just do your job, keep order at the front until absolutely necessary. And that's an order from me."

"I'm sorry, sir, but when you find out from a civilian from the front who is terrified that her and her young daughter are going to be ripped apart like the others that she's seen then it does concern me. I have a right to protect those out front, as well as protect _you_ and our squad," Esther said, feeling the skin of her cheeks burning. "I have a right to know what is going on."

"The world is going mad, don't question it."

Esther shook her head and placed her hands upon her hips. "That's not good enough."

"Are you questioning my authority, Williams?" Mathers asked, standing to his full height. He held the radio tightly in one hand.

"I know that whoever is on the other end of that radio is important enough for you to not be parted from it," Esther analysed, her eyes searching his. "You don't know what's going on either, do you?"

"No… I don't," Mathers whispered, averting his gaze from her. "We were sent here in the dark."

"Should I be worried?"

"It would be weird if you weren't."

His comment threw her. She wanted to question him about what he meant by that, but a deafening, blood-curdling scream pierced the night sky. Screams filled the air at that moment, thunderous, pained, and fearful. Esther heard the soldiers rushing to the front first, and as her gaze fell on them, she noticed they were heavily armed. She closed her eyes, willing that her mind was playing tricks on her, but they were there when she reopened them. She turned back to Mathers whose face had paled.

"It's begun," Mathers announced, walking away from her. "The crowd's been compromised. You know what you have to do."

**.x.**

Abraham Ford was a man she respected.

As she stared at the crowd below her, trying to separate from those compromised and those running for their lives, she knew he would know what to do. All she could do was to watch as the dead grabbed at the living, pulling them down and ripping through them with their teeth. The ones closest to the dead had fallen victim to the attacks which gave the other innocent civilians time to get away and scatter. It was a blood bath in every sense, and it numbed Esther to her very core.

She turned to Fisher who could do nothing but watch as the dead continued their attack. All it had taken was one person collapsing in the middle of the crowd and then pure mayhem to ensue.

"This is my order," Esther called out to her squad. "We shoot the undead. We shoot the ones they've attacked. We need to keep this compound safe. This is a safe zone and we're going to make it safe once more."

She observed her squad nodding in response, and they aimed their weapons at the crowd, narrowing down on the undead. Esther pulled her rifle to her and aimed just as an onslaught of bullets showered upon the crowd.

"If you think they're infected, you shoot," the familiar voice of Sgt. Abraham Ford filled her ears. He came to stand next to her and began to shoot the undead alongside his squad.

"I wondered where you were," Esther told him over the gunfire. "How long did you know?"

"This morning," he answered honestly. He watched as she nodded at his answer. "I needed to call my family. Tell them that I loved them and that I'll do anything and everything in my power to get to them. I needed to make sure they were safe from all this."

"Are they safe?"

"Yeah," Abraham answered. "They're on their way to Washington now."

Esther furrowed her brow. "Is that safe?"

"It hasn't been compromised," Abraham said. "We should head out there."

"What about here?"

"Four safe zones have been compromised already," Abraham informed her. "We've been knee deep in shit for several days and none the wiser on what's going on out there. Our own superiors aren't telling us shit because they don't want to scare us."

"How do you know that?"

"That four safe zones have been compromised? Look around you, Williams. We've been here a week and it's happening here, too."

Esther bit her lip, feeling the panic within her rise to her throat. She felt like she was being strangled, anxiety clawing at her throat and wrapping its spindly fingers around her neck and squeezing the life out of her. People were dying in front of her. Just when they thought they'd shot the infected, more people were being taken down. How had it come to this? How was this their reality?

"What is this?" she asked him, hoping he would answer her.

He offered her a look of pity before shaking his head. "The end of the world, Williams."

"What do we do?" she almost croaked, her eyes scanning the crowd. "We can't leave these people to fend for themselves with this. We didn't sign up for this."

"We didn't sign up for being left in the dark," Abraham countered. "We didn't sign up to die like _that_."

Esther's gaze fell on the mother and children she'd spoken to a mere few minutes before. The mother was clinging to the gates, pleading to be let in, as the world around her turned dark and deadly. Her child sobbed against her, and Esther felt her heart sink as she knew she was powerless. She moved her rifle away and placed it across her body.

"The first chance you get, please get out of here," he whispered to her. "This place… it ain't safe anymore, Williams. If I can save one more person today who will listen to me then please be that person."

Esther kept her gaze upon the mother and child. She searched for a way out for them but couldn't find one without them being put in even more immediate danger. The bullets that rained upon the crowd was startling, and she knew she would still hear them even when the gunfire ceased and the world was quiet again. If the dead didn't get them, the stray bullets would.

When silence only answered Abraham, he turned to her and clicked onto where her thoughts were.

"You can't save everyone," Abraham said, sternly. "Don't be stupid."

"You just said if you could save one more person then to be that person," Esther tried to reason with him, but it was more so for her. "I'm passing that on. Pass it forward and all that."

"Williams, no," Abraham called out as Esther climbed over the metal fence, her rifle on her back. He tried to pull her back, but she swatted him away. "Esther, please. Don't do this. Don't be the hero."

"I'm not being the hero, Abe. I'm doing my duty," Esther said before tipping her head at him. "If it was your wife and children down there, you'd want someone to do the same. I'm not letting anyone else die tonight."

And then she let herself fall into the crowd.

And all Abraham Ford could do was watch as she disappeared into the sea of tortured souls.

**.x.**

Carol Peletier thought she was going to die.

The hand that reached for her was one of the undead, she was sure of it, but as she turned around and observed the soldier she'd spoken to earlier beside her; she knew that someone was looking down on her. She hoped that it was her mother, knowing that her life meant more than dying today. Sophia held onto her tightly, as the soldier pushed through the crowd of people, one hand with her rifle aimed at the crowd, and one grasping onto her cardigan covered arm.

She was vaguely aware of someone shouting in the distance, but her mind was scarred by the screams that had surrounded her. The sound of gunfire increased as it cleared the immediate surroundings of the soldier of any confirmed dead. The soldier came to a stop, pulling Carol and Sophia in front of her, and motioning towards the gate. Her gaze was still on the crowd, her head tilting to the side as she had seen something in the distance.

"Head over there, okay?" she called out before handing Carol something. As Carol looked down, she observed the badge in her hand. "The door will shut after ten seconds. I'll get back. If I'm not back in ten, let the door close."

Carol could only nod in response. "Thank you. What you've done for us… thank you."

"You aren't safe yet," she responded. "Go. Now."

The soldier had pulled out her rifle, aiming it at the crowd once more.

Carol pulled Sophia towards the gate, her hand fusing around her young daughters as they trudged through the mob of people. She heard Ed calling out for her, and it didn't take long before he was advancing towards her, pushing people out of his way to get to her. Her entire world had shifted overnight, and her chance at escaping was ruined. She reached the door quicker than she realised and raised the badge to the screen where it beeped once before allowing her entry into the compound, hoping to get behind the safety of the fence before Ed reached her.

But as another hand reached for her and grabbed at her harshly, she knew he had found her. He pushed past her, entering the compound first, and she followed quietly behind him with Sophia.

A tall ginger haired man came over to them then.

"Where is she?" his voice boomed at her.

Carol faltered at the man. "S-she said she would come back. If she didn't come back after ten seconds then to allow the door to close."

"Son of a bitch," he sneered, pushing past them. The man looked over her head at the swarm of dead inching closer and closer to them. He felt his heart drop as he saw no sign of her. There was more of them now than there had been.

_Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four._

_Three.__Two.__One—_

The gate had begun to close automatically. A clang sounded as the gate closed. But as loud and desperate knocking sounded upon the gate, Abraham, along with Fisher and Jeffries, raised their weapons. Abraham closed the gap between him and the gate, where he used his own badge to open the gates. He motioned for his men to cover him.

She was alive. And she was there. Abraham sighed with relief. The relief washed away almost immediately and was replaced with frustration and anger.

The door clanged shut loudly behind her, and Abraham could only watch as Esther fell to the ground. He observed her for a moment, noticing her jacket had been removed and was now wrapped around a bundle in her arms, but one thing that startled him most was the number of tears and blood stains to her white shirt. Her gun was still across her body, beads of sweat forming upon her forehead.

He helped her up from the ground, checking her over for any injuries or wounds but when he found none, he met her gaze.

"What the hell was that?!" Abraham raised his voice. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Have you got a fucking death wish?!"

"You would've done the same, Abe," Esther acknowledged, breathlessly. "You know you would've. I know you, Abe."

Abraham fell into silence. She was right, but there was no way he was going to admit that to her at the moment.

"What was so important that you risked your life out there then?" Abraham asked, his voice harsh and gaze hard on her.

Esther moved closer to him. She pulled open her jacket where a baby had been wrapped up in her army jacket. The baby was no older than six months.

"It had been left in the carrier on the ground," Esther said, her voice low. "I wasn't going to leave it out there."

"Where were the parents?"

"Nowhere in sight," Esther replied. "I called out, but there was no-one there."

Abraham inspected the bundle. The child's eyes were wide and startled. Even at such a young age, it seemed as though it knew the world was different. "Okay. Let's get it checked over. We don't have much time before—"

More screams filled the sky around them and all of them turned to stare at the gates. Death and destruction were only a few feet away from them, and yet, there was nothing they could do.


	3. 1:2 - Ribcage

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has followed and favourited this story so far, it means so much. To those who have reviewed this, I want to thank you for taking your time out to write a review. It really means a lot to know what you think of this. And especially to _Andria790 _for giving me so much confidence in posting!

So, here is the next chapter! I hope you enjoy!

_Warning: Some moderate swearing._

* * *

Part One

..

Two

_Ribcage_

**.x.**

"There's a helicopter arriving at the CDC tomorrow at noon," Abraham informed her in the medical tent.

She was being checked over for any open wounds or scratches by the doctor. Her gaze fell on Abraham then, tearing away from the baby that she had rescued from the outside who was being checked over by another doctor. Carol – the woman she had saved with her daughter Sophia – was holding him and soothing him as much as she could.

"What for?" Esther asked, nodding to the doctor once he had finished checking her over and confirming that she was in good health and no scratches were found upon her body. Abraham stood tall in front of her, coming to stand in front of her view of the child.

He said plainly. "To get us out of here."

This caused her to look at him properly. She tried to organise her thoughts and calm the shaking of her hands with a tight squeeze. She shook her head once, allowing her eyes to close and feeling the burn of them when they reunited.

"A rescue mission?"

Abraham nodded and came to sit beside Esther on the bed. They were both silent for a moment as they watched the world go by, the distant shrill of the dead and the dying filtering through the material of the medical tent.

"What you did out there… was stupid," Abraham warned her. He watched as she readjusted herself beside him, uncomfortable with the reprimanding he was giving her. "Stupid gets you killed. You know that. You've seen it before on the frontline."

"I know I can't save everyone, but if I could at least save those people over there, then that's okay," Esther whispered with a shrug. "What makes me better than them? Why are we being rescued, and these people are essentially bait?"

"I didn't say that this _thing_ is right or moral," Abraham reassured her. "We were sent here for a reason and even though we weren't told the full story doesn't mean your life is worth more than those out there. You have a job to do. You're not meant to save everyone."

"I can't save everyone," she said, mostly to herself. "But I can try."

"No," Abraham said with a chuckle. "No, you can't."

He rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder as he stood. He observed the area, turning back to her. "Be ready for noon. We're getting out of this place."

"What about them?" Esther asked, her gaze falling on the small family just a stone's throw away from her.

Abraham sighed, running a hand over his tired face. He shrugged before he said the one thing she was hoping she wouldn't ever hear. "We can't save everyone."

**.x.**

The dead, however, had other plans.

The crowd behind the fences, that was once loud with screams and cries, had now fallen silent. The groans that emitted from the mass of people was an astonishing amount, and a clear indication that the safe zone had been compromised. Esther was standing in the guard tower, her gaze fixed on the ambling and stumbling dead. She was numb for the most part, but she felt everything all at once, a feeling that she was used to. Her brain wracked with endless thoughts: what if it all went wrong out there? What if one of the dead grabbed her and took a chunk out of her? What if she hadn't gotten to the child in time and watched as the dead ripped him apart in front of her? Would she have coped with that?

But she hadn't. And she fought with her thoughts for a while.

_I can't save everyone_.

She allowed her arms to wrap around her abdomen, almost as if they were holding her up and comforting her in the only way she knew how.

"Hey," a soft voice filled the guard tower then, and she turned to watch Carol enter the small area.

Esther could only muster up a small smile.

Carol stole a glance at the dead outside before it became too overwhelming. "Do you think there's a cure for this?"

Esther thought for a moment. "Honestly, I don't know."

She knew it wasn't the most reassuring comment, but it was the truth. It had taken a week for the safe zone to be compromised. One whole week. They had filtered through hundreds, if not thousands of people; and it had taken one night – one mere hour – for the crowd to die.

"I just wanted to thank you again, for what you did for myself and my daughter out there," Carol whispered. "We're forever grateful. I know you didn't have to, but you did, and that speaks volumes."

Esther could only offer a nod, unsure of what to say. It had been her job in every sense of the word, but it had been a dangerous mission. She had allowed her own personal feelings cloud her judgement, but she didn't regret it. She turned to the loud holler of a man who had followed Carol into the back of the compound.

"Is that your husband?"

Carol followed her gaze, her eyes falling on Ed. Her stomach dropped at the mere sight of him. "Yes," was all she could say.

"Is he always such a gentleman?" Esther commented, her gaze never leaving the man. Ed had been anything but, and she had overheard his comments made to Carol when he believed no-one could hear him.

Carol thought back to the day the outbreak was confirmed by news reports. The day that she had been so close to the freedom she had hoped for and worked towards, but for it to be ripped from her grasp before she could truly feel it.

"He… he's just worried about all of this, that's all," Carol replied defiantly, wanting to believe it herself. She noticed Esther bite her tongue as the soldier was able to see the truth through her lie and, with a look of pity on her face, the soldier looked her in the eye.

"You don't have to live like that anymore," Esther whispered, closing the gap between her and Carol. "I see the faint bruises on your face. They're fading but I know you feel them still. I know what that's like, I do. You have a chance here. There's a helicopter coming for us at noon tomorrow. I can make sure there's room for you and Sophia, and the baby."

Carol stole one last glance at Ed, who was staring at her, a look of thunder on his face at being apart from her for so long. She had the chance at freedom again, given to her by a stranger who was able to see the markings to her face.

"You don't have to give up just because he tells you to," Esther whispered, placing a gentle hand upon the woman's shoulder.

Carol watched as the soldier left her side, venturing back into the main compound. She allowed her gaze to fall upon Sophia and then dragged it to Ed reluctantly. Her mind went back to that moment where she was nearly free from him. He had beaten her senseless, and was unrelenting with his assault. She closed her eyes and tried to regain her composure, but she could feel herself slipping, the memories of that day burning her mind once more.

_Idiot. Fat. Dumb. Ugly. Bitch. Whore. Failure._

_Carol Peletier was not any of those names but she had stared at her bruised and bloodied reflection more times than she could count. And she had seen all the names Ed had called her being carved into her skin, burning into every inch of her like carvings engraved deep into the trunk of a tree. Her body had been stained in the blue and purple hues that had become a sight she was all too familiar with. Bruises imprinted her neck where he had grabbed at her tightly to stop her from screaming out for help; they stained her breasts and stomach where he knew no one but her could see the true extent of his hatred towards her; the tops of her thighs were embossed with scratches as he had clawed at her to stop her from crawling away from his attack, his nails marking and tainting her delicate skin._

_She had felt the nausea overwhelm her, the dizziness from his hits to her head, an argument that had caused another beating to happen. Ed Peletier had once been a good man: he had idolised her in ways she wasn't sure she was worthy of; had given her enough love to fill her heart a million times over; had promised himself to her as teenagers and who had written her letters every day when he was away in the army; had made her a wife and a mother; and whose demons now spoke louder than her cries for help._

_Some people would call him a great friend, a good guy, the funny one. As Carol would watch as his family and friends laughed at his jokes, and found him charming and charismatic, she would sit there in silence, the burn of his fists upon her marking her skin underneath the sundress and cardigan she clung so tightly around herself. She would smile and laugh along with them when all she wanted to do was to sweep Sophia up in her arms and drive as far away as possible._

_He wasn't always like this, she had remembered. The hatred that had now darkened his soul was not in him when they first met and fell in love with each other; and she had wondered if what he would seethe at her was true. Was she as horrid as he claimed her to be? Had she hurt him without realising it? Had she called him names with the same hatred as he called her? She had always tried her utmost best to be the wife he wanted her to be, the mother that Sophia deserved, the homemaker who ensured her family were well fed and clothed with the money Ed made as a plumber, and she felt as though she was failing at every single one of them. Carol had wanted to go back to work when Sophia started school, but Ed had told her he needed her to be at home. His reasonings were always cut short; him becoming bored as she questioned him about it and cutting her off by asking for another beer._

_Her job as a librarian had offered her the one thing she sought after most now. And that was peace; not from Sophia, but from Ed and his anger. She was allowed those few hours to have silence, where nothing else in the world mattered other than helping people find books or organising them. She wasn't Ed's wife, she wasn't the battered wife that she believed people to know about but was too scared to say anything or maybe they were oblivious to it, maybe she hid it well. She was a friendly face for many._

_She was just Carol._

_She had closed her eyes tightly, trying to regain the composure that seemed to be fleeing along with her love for him. She had felt the bile rise up into her throat, and before she could steady herself, she was throwing up into the toilet. She was holding onto the white porcelain toilet as if her life depended on it; and maybe it did, in that instance. She wanted nothing more in this world, in this moment, for it all to be a dream. A dream that she would wake up from to find the Ed she had fallen in love with beside her in bed, and he would hold her and tell her it was all just a dream._

_Just a dream, my love, he would say, and she would allow herself to drift off once more knowing she was in the arms of a man who loved and adored her._

_But as she felt the cold tiled floor beneath her that sent a shiver through her body, she knew this was her reality._

_The pain was beginning to set in now, wearing down her adrenaline piece by piece. And her body screamed in agony as every movement sent searing pain through her. As she wiped her mouth and returned to her full height, albeit a bit unsteady, she knew he would be back soon and if she wasn't quick enough then he would only add more when he returned. She had a plan, but she was fearful about executing it as she knew each plan she had made in the past had fallen through. Either he would suss it out, realise that a few pieces of clothing were missing from her wardrobe, or he would see it in her eyes._

_Sophia had been at school and would be for a few more hours; maybe she could get her out early and make their escape. She knew she had to be quick, she knew she had to get out before he turned his anger onto Sophia. Or even kill her, which seemed more likely with every beating she endured._

_She could do this. She could put a brave face on. She had become an expert at that, but… she was scared. A hint of excitement pierced through that fear at the prospect of a life away from Ed. And that was enough for her to wipe the tears away, dress herself as quickly as her aching and bruised body allowed her to, and to grab the essential belongings for her and Sophia._

_Carol caught herself in the mirror on the back of their bedroom door. The discoloration to her face had been a startling sight: her lip was bust and bleeding; her cheek was most likely broken; her nose was swollen and crooked. This time was the worst it had ever been. And any fear and uncertainty disappeared then, and she knew her decision was the right one to make._

_As she pulled open the door, Ed was stood at the bottom of the porch. His hands and knuckles bloody from the beating he had given her. But there was a look of absolute fear in his eyes, sobered up even for just that moment, and she knew that life would never be the same again. She had hoped it was the realisation of his actions, but she moved her gaze from him and observed the streets around him at the once quaint and peaceful area was now frantic with people running away from others whose only need was to tear them apart._

_The sound of people dying around her was one she would never forget, but it was the haunted look in his eye that spoke volumes to her. It was not one of remorse, but rather one of fear at the state of the world around him; and she hated him more than she did before. A weak man who only felt strong and powerful when beating the living shit out of her was now falling apart at a world that was turning its back against everyone. Then as the end of the world took hold, her hope for a better future for her and Sophia fell through once more._

Her decision was instantly made for her when her eyes fell upon Sophia. Esther was standing beside her, watching as the young girl spoke animatedly about the book she was currently reading, her mind blocking out the horror they had witnessed. Sophia was the greatest gift that came out of her relationship needed her to make that decision, and she was worthy of deciding how to live her life.

She was so worthy, and, in that moment, her thoughts of hope were louder than ever before.

Louder than any name he called her.

And that was when everything fell into place for.

She chose to live.

**.x.**

Esther had found a quiet corner in the compound, away from the sounds of the dead and the sound of numerous conversations that surrounded her. She dialled in the familiar number, one that she knew off by heart; one that was, in every sense, home. As the phone call connected, and Esther closed her eyes as her father's voice came over the other end.

His voice calmed her instantly, knowing that he was safe. _"Hello?"_

"It's me," was all she needed to say for him to sigh with relief, and to call her mother over.

_"Are you safe? Are you okay?"_ he asked, his voice urgent. _"We've seen the news. It's… crazy out there, huh?"_

"I'm okay," she reassured simply. "It's not reached you guys, has it?"

_"No, sweetheart,"_ her father said, reassuringly. _"They've closed the airports so no-one can leave, and no-one gets in. What's happening over there?"_

"They're pulling us out of here. I'm going to try and see if I can come back home," Esther told them. "I just… it's going to be quiet on my end from now on. But I'm going to do everything in my power to get back to you both."

Her father fell silent then, but she could tell he was emotional. _"Be safe, please. Whatever you do, get back to us in one piece."_

"I will," Esther whispered. "I love you."

_"Love you, too, darling,"_ her father replied genuinely._ "Your mother wants to hear your voice."_

_"Honey, we love you so much,"_ her mother whispered tearfully. _"Please, please, please be careful."_

"I promise," Esther whispered. "I have to go."

As Esther bid her goodbyes to her parents, she wondered if that would be the last time she would hear their voices. She waited for the call to disconnect on the other end, not wanting to be the first one to end the call.

And when it did, she felt the world close in around her.

**.x.**

"We have to go," Abraham called out. "Now!"

Esther tore her attention away from her conversation with Fisher and Jeffries, who both in turn reacted to Abraham. "What's happening?"

Abraham had been over to the cells to get an update on the situation whilst everyone was sitting around like sitting ducks. They needed confirmation on their next move, but when no call had come through, Abraham had grown increasingly frustrated and went in search for answers. But what he had found was much worse than he had realised. The ones marked as infected had turned, and as he opened the door, he had heard the all too familiar groaning of the dead to know that the doctors and scientists within the room had been bitten and subsequently _undead_.

"We're compromised inside, too," was all Abraham had to say for them to understand what was going. Esther tore her gaze away from Abraham and looked the way he came. The sound of the dead only increased around them, and as they turned to look where the sound as coming from, they realised the dead was quickly surrounding them, and not from the direction Abraham had come from.

"What in the hell?!" Ed called out as the dead advanced towards them.

Esther and Abraham grabbed their backpacks and as many supplies as they needed, which they knew would never be enough.

"Go! We can't all get out of here yet. We'll hold them back," Fisher ordered, to which Abraham and Esther nodded. Esther broke protocol and hugged Fisher goodbye, not knowing if this would be the last time she would see him.

"Get back to us, okay?" Esther told him. He was like a brother to her, and it broke her heart to leave him this way. He saluted her before pushing her away from him as he turned on the horde of the dead coming their way.

As Fisher and Jeffries opened fire on the coming dead, it allowed a gateway for the rest of them to escape. The only way out was through the horde outside, but if they were quick and stuck close to one another, they could easily get away in one piece.

They ran, and they ran, dodging the open arms of the dead, and until their lungs, legs and throat burned. But everywhere they turned, there was more dead at every corner. They knew the situation was bad, but not _this_ bad. Abraham and Esther shared the same worried look as they assisted the family out of the city. Abraham was at the front, weapon poised and aiming at figures every other second, and Esther took position at the back ensuring that no stray dead came out and claimed another life.

Carol carried the baby and Sophia was beside her. Ed was trailing a little behind.

Screams filled the air in the distance, shrieking into the night sky, a sign of death and destruction all around them. They knew they had to get out of the city, even if it was for just a few hours until daylight was on their side: the city proving to be as dangerous as ever.

A long hour later, they were out of the major city, and away from the peril that consumed the city in its entirety, but that didn't mean they were safe.

The streets were quiet, but there was always going to be a risk of an ambush. As their running slowed to a walk which allowed them to regain their breath for a short time, they were aware of just how silent the street was; the footsteps bouncing off every surface.

"You hear that?" Abraham came to a stop and turned, silencing the footsteps with a raised hand. He met Esther's gaze as she listened out for what he was referring to. Just when Esther was about to shake her head, she heard it in its entirety.

A gunshot.

And then another, and another.

A single shooter.

Abraham motioned for them to follow at a slower pace, whoever was shooting was likely to be in danger, and they needed to scope the area first before helping. To rush in all guns blazing was dangerous; they had everything to lose.

One wrong move and it was game over.

**.x.**

"Ya see that lil' brother?!"

Merle Dixon was enjoying himself more than he thought he would. Sat on the roof of his trailer, hunting rifle in one hand, a bottle of whisky and ammunition beside his feet, he was living. Well and truly having the time of his life.

"Nearly fuckin' shot his goddamn ugly mug right off his shoulders!" Merle hollered much to the annoyance of his brother who was sat behind him fixing his crossbow. "Here comes Old Grumpy Man from two trailers down, sis. Remember when he beat us with his shoe for accidentally killin' one of his daughter's pet rabbits? I can remember sayin' to him that it ain't our fault the rabbit escaped his goddamn hutch and hopped right into our garden. Pops wasn't best pleased."

"Nah," Daryl confirmed with a scoff. "Took the limelight away from his own beating on us."

"Ain't that right, lil' brother," Merle chuckled. "Still had a fuckin' imprint of the slipper on my ass for weeks."

Daryl fell silent, casting his gaze upon the area. He acknowledged the neighbours shot dead in the street, some having turned, and some not. Daryl had glanced at his brother then, disbelief weighing heavy on his shoulders.

"Ya sure they were all infected, Merle?"

"Beggar's can't be choosers," Merle refuted as he aimed at the old neighbour that had beat them before taking the shot, which rumbled through the air like thunder. "Ya gonna run around all crazy, Merle ain't taking no chances."

Daryl rolled his eyes before returning his gaze back onto the treeline. The air was thick and windy, causing his guard to raise as the wind caused the trees and bushes to dance in response. As Daryl returned his gaze on the street ahead, he noticed movement up ahead. He narrowed his gaze as he stood from his seat and moved forward, raising a hand for Merle to stop. His brother had stopped and had leant forward.

A woman carrying a bundle in her arms; a young girl beside her and clinging to her; a man standing ahead of them; and two soldiers, a tall ginger haired man and a short woman with her hair tied back, came into view.

Merle raised his rifle then and aimed, which had caused the two soldiers to raise their weapons at him in defence. He smirked before shaking his head, returning his rifle to the side of him.

"Ya might want to take care of that shit behind ya," he called out with a smirk. The female soldier turned then and noticed the dead that had followed them, or at least made their way towards that area after Merle's antics.

They watched as the two soldiers took care of the dead that came out of the treeline on either side of the street. When the last one was taken care of, stillness returned to them then.

Merle shook his head at the deceased neighbours in front of him. "Which one of you called in a noise complaint, huh?"


	4. 1:3 - Rivers and Roads

Part One

..

Three

_Rivers and Roads_

**.x.**

"We ain't staying with this crazy fucking redneck," Ed argued, his voice hushed. Esther turned to him and furrowed her brows. She threw a look in Carol's direction as she tried to soothe the crying baby who had become increasingly unsettled by the gunfire that overwhelmed him. The woman could only offer her a look of sheer terror at knowing the risk of having a crying baby out on the streets with the dead closing in on them.

"Ya might wanna shut that baby up!" the man hollered in the distance. "Ya gonna have more of those geeks on ya ass if it don't."

Carol was struggling to soothe him, knowing that all he wanted was the reassuring hold of his mother which would give him the greatest comfort of all. The man was right, but none of them knew what to do.

"Ya can come inside if ya want," the other man called out. "It might help?"

Esther looked to Abraham who hesitated. He nodded to her, knowing they had no other choice at the moment. "We have to get off these streets, enough for him to stop crying."

"You're a father," Esther commented, with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk on her face. "Surely you know how to calm a crying baby?"

Abraham shook his head with a scoff. "Kids cry over anything. And even if I did, I would've been a millionaire and touring the world helping people with their crying kids and sharing the secret. But right now, we're running out of options and we gotta get him quiet."

Esther threw one last look at the two men standing on top of the trailer. "You trust them?"

"Hell no," Abraham chuckled. "But we have no choice."

Esther could only nod and stare at the two men standing atop the trailer; the moon in the distance allowing a golden hue to radiate upon them. Esther knew they were running out of options; it was difficult to make a rational decision to assist and aid civilians knowing that any decision made had to benefit the small baby and young girl in their company.

"I can't stop him crying," Carol said, her voice shaking. "I think he's hungry."

"A neighbour a few trailers away had a kid recently," the other man called out. "Maybe I can head there and see if they have any baby formula and kid things for him?"

Abraham nodded. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"Only if one of ya go with him," Merle countered. "I ain't havin' my brother, Daryl, risk his life for ya, or for that annoyin' baby. The girl can go with him."

"Fine by me," Esther countered back with a nod. Daryl had descended down the trailer with a controlled jump onto the lawn and closed the gap between him and the soldiers.

"Be careful out there," Abraham warned her. He turned to the man slowly approaching, eyeing the crossbow slung over his shoulder. "Bring her back in one piece, okay?"

Daryl nodded in response, shouldering his crossbow. "Ya ready?"

Esther shouldered her rifle, pulling out a knife from her boot. She knew how important it was for them to remain silent; with Daryl carrying and using his crossbow, she, too, had to be responsible for protecting him, just like he would protect her. His brother had warned her, but Abraham had given Daryl his own warning. Both of them had someone to return to; and though it was a small mission, what was to be a quick in and out job now meant something entirely different. She had seen the true horrors of the world, just as he had. And she knew he wouldn't hesitate to take her out if she was the only one to return to the trailer, just like she wouldn't hesitate to take him out if he was compromised and feel the wrath of his brother's love.

With one last glance at Abraham, she followed behind the hunter as he led the way.

**.x.**

The trailer had been thrown into darkness; the heavy curtains blocking them from seeing any movement inside. Daryl sighed, not liking the fact that they were going in blind without any knowledge of the potential threat that lay waiting for them inside. The flashlight didn't offer him any reassurance no matter how many times he shone it inside the windows. He had to think tactically about their next moves; going in armed with weapons would be dangerous as he knew many of the neighbours had weapons. He threw a look in Esther's direction and she nodded, understanding what he was thinking.

He allowed his hand to bang against the metal door, firstly trying to gain the neighbours attention if they were inside. The dead didn't knock, and he hoped that he had built enough rapport with the neighbours to allow them to be calmed by the sight of him. Merle, on the other hand, was the brother the neighbours avoided at all costs. When there was no movement of the curtains, he raised his crossbow up and reached for the door. Esther took a deep breath, putting her knife back in her boot and pulling her gun round, attaching the suppressor to the gun, understanding she needed to take extra precautions.

A quick and efficient death.

As the door creaked open, they waited with bated breath. When silence only filled the air, Daryl advanced forwards, climbing the steps leading into the trailer. Esther followed behind him, and as he moved to the right, she moved to the left. The trailer had been left abandoned, as far as she could tell; her thoughts travelling to where they were. Could they have been in the crowd that she was controlling, and had travelled to the safe zone in the hope of being taken away from a city different from their usual home but whose life had ultimately been claimed by the dead?

"Clear," Esther said in a hushed tone, having searched under the dining table covered with a table cloth and behind the couches. She noticed Daryl glance over at her, and with a nod, he moved further down the small corridor, still thick with darkness. Three rooms were either side of him; and with a quick glance back at Esther who gave him one more nod before he advanced further. Esther followed suit, raising her weapon as he tapped against the doors.

He heard no movement on the other side, and with a gentle push, the door opened to reveal an empty bedroom. A master bedroom, with the owner's belongings still in place from their life before all of this. The closet was open, and clothes were bundled together in the footwell, a lot of them missing from the hangers; a stray suitcase lying on the floor.

Once the coast was clear, they moved towards the second bedroom. The room was smaller than the master and was adorned with baby decorations. A cot was placed against the opposite wall, a rocking chair was situated beneath the window, a changing station was just adjacent to the door.

"Gonna check the last room," Daryl announced to her as he moved to the side to allow her to gain access to the room. "Grab what ya need for him and we'll head back."

Esther thanked him before being left alone. She allowed herself a moment to study the room in its entirety; the soft furnishings had been specifically chosen for their baby in the months leading up to the birth. Every piece of clothing, every toy, every photo frame had been picked with that child in mind. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on the name upon the wall.

_Savannah Rae_.

A photograph on the table next to the rocking chair caught her attention and she found herself walking towards it. She picked it up and inspected it, her eyes skimming over the three faces staring back at her, the parents beaming back at her and the baby staring up at the mother. She felt a cold hand grasp her throat as she thought about the lives that had been lost: had this family made it out alive? Had they been able to get to safety?

She placed the photograph down back in its place, and then moved to grab the essentials needed. She found some clothes for the child, ranging up to a year old. The child was around six months old, and so she grabbed as many clothes as she physically could. She found slings underneath the hanging rail in the closet, as well as pacifiers in a small box on the top shelf.

With one last glance at the room, Esther headed back out, only to find Daryl in the kitchen stocking up on formula and bottles. As Esther packed the clothes away in her backpack, Daryl had found a bag for himself where he placed them all in. They worked in silence before they headed out and back towards the trailer Merle had been atop.

As they exited the trailer, they found the street to be empty and eerily quiet.

Daryl threw a look in Esther's direction. "Let's hope Merle's being a good host to ya people."

"He doesn't look like the type to accommodate new people," Esther smirked.

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, he ain't. He ain't the friendliest person."

"I guess that's the best way to be now," Esther commented with a shrug.

Daryl furrowed his brow at her comment and bit his lip. "Ya come from the city?"

Esther nodded but remained silent. She knew it would be different in the various areas of the city with it having taken the brunt of the attack whereas other areas were more filtered out. She wondered if it was like that all around the country.

"I'm guessin' it was bad," Daryl continued. "It's been bad here for a few days. People gettin' sick and attackin' people. Cops ain't coming out to us so most of us had to protect ourselves."

"What were you told?"

"That it was some kinda drug people were takin'," Daryl explained with a shrug. "It ain't too different to our reality around here. Ya get used to people bein' high off their faces every day and on every goddamn corner. Asked Merle, he knows his shit with drugs, and he said it ain't anything like he'd seen before. He'd tripped balls once or twice but knew nothing that made people chew faces off."

"We weren't told anything," Esther told him after a moment of silence. "They called it Operation Z."

"And that's it?"

Esther nodded. "We still don't know what it is. We know as much as you."

**.x.**

Abraham never strayed from the window as he stared out at the street outside. His eyes wandered towards the trailer that Esther and Daryl had headed to in the hopes of finding some essentials for the child. Merle had taken a seat in the armchair with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other, his rifle resting against the chair. Sophia was sat reading a book at the dining table, her hands over her ears to drown out the crying. Carol was walking around the room, bouncing the baby hoping that would soothe him, but as his crying continued, she understood she was running out of things to try out on him. Ed was sat on the couch staring at the door.

Abraham glanced over at Carol and offered her a reassuring look. She nodded, knowing her whole heart was set on Daryl and Esther returning with things that would help him.

As Abraham lifted his gaze to the window, he felt relief wash over him.

Esther and Daryl were on their way back. He opened the door to them, and Esther gave him a nod.

"Daryl found a few tins of formula as well as bottles," Esther told them, watching as Daryl handed over the bag full with supplies to Abraham and Carol. "And I found him some new clothes which should see him through for a while."

"Thank you," Carol told them with a relieved smile. "Let's get this boy fed, shall we?"

As Abraham held the baby, Carol prepared a bottle. Esther watched as the baby took the bottle quickly and hungrily, his hands holding onto the plastic beaker to keep it in place. A smile spread across her face as relief washed over her; something that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

**.x.**

As night deepened around them, and the world grew still outside, the group decided to settle down for the night. Merle had gotten himself into a drunken stupor and had crawled to bed which wasn't a rare occurrence for Daryl to witness. The baby that still remained with an unknown name was settled down on the couch beside Carol. Sophia was sleeping on the other couch, a blanket placed over her to keep her warm. Ed was sat on the couch beside his sleeping daughter, his gaze unwavering from his wife.

Esther and Abraham were sat at the dining table; the window framing them. Abraham had placed the radio on the table, occasionally reaching for it to make sure it was working. Esther, however, had zoned out completely; exhaustion having stopped her from focusing completely.

Daryl was sat on the opposite end of the trailer, looking out the huge window that looked out onto the street. He would occasionally glance at the soldiers; noticing that Esther's gaze hadn't moved from the metal trim separating the carpet from the lino of the kitchen. He observed the way Abraham would occasionally raise his gaze towards the woman before returning his gaze back onto the radio.

He thought back to what Esther had told him, and at the sheer desperation he felt as her words hit close to home. He knew that as soon as he saw the first geek – a term his brother had given to them – that the world wasn't the same. Esther's hesitation and her own confusion had spoken volumes.

Movement caught his attention then and he observed Esther rubbing her face tiredly. She pulled back her sleeve and took note of the time, before meeting his eyes for a split second. Her gaze was torn away from him in an instant.

"Get some sleep," he heard Abraham say to her. She shook her head.

"I'm fine," she yawned to which Abraham scoffed at her.

"You need to be good for tomorrow," Abraham warned her. "I can't have you too exhausted for a busy day."

Daryl scratched the back of his neck, biting his lip as he wondered if he should offer his room to her for the night. He didn't want to come across as though he was listening in to their conversation; but the trailer was small, and everyone would've heard them talk.

"Ya can have my bed," he told her, offering her a reassuring smile. "It's the smaller bedroom."

Esther furrowed her brow then, before smiling at him. "Thank you, Daryl."

As she stood, nodding thankfully in Daryl's direction for his kind gesture, she moved towards the bedroom.

A crackling from the radio sounded which caused her to slow and turn towards it. Screaming filled the once quiet room, causing the inhabitants of the room to react to the sound. They'd all heard it once or twice before; the sound of death. Bullets could be heard in the background, as well as the sound of heavy panting. Abraham stared at Esther who was looking at the radio.

_"Is anyone there, over?"_

Abraham reached for it like lightening. "Sergeant Ford here, over. Fisher, that you?"

_"It is, Sergeant. It's good to hear your voice."_

"Yours, too. Are you okay?"

There was silence on the other end for a little while. _"No. I need you to send a message to my family, sir. And tell my girl that I died fighting, over."_

"You're not going to die, Fisher," Abraham said defiantly.

_"I am, sir. I've been bit,"_ Fisher replied sadly. _"Tell Maggie that I love her. Tell Esther that I'll have a cold beer waiting for you both on the other side. But not too soon. Whatever this thing is, beat this world."_

"Where are you? We can come back, we can help you get out of there," Abraham was desperate now.

_"It would be a suicide mission if there ever was one, sir. Avoid the cities; we're overrun now," _Fisher fell silent for a moment. _"I imagine it's the same everywhere. Whatever you do; get to that helicopter and get the hell out of this place before it kills you. I don't have much time, so I'll say goodbye now. I'm signing off now for the last time."_

The room fell silent then. Abraham slowly turned to where Esther was stood, tears streaming down her face at the loss of her best friend. She stood there silently, struggling to compose herself as his voice now only existed in her head. Abraham clicked the radio on again.

"Fisher?" Abraham called out but when only the deafening sound of silence filled the air around him, he knew. "Fisher. Answer me."

The radio clicked, but it wasn't his voice they could hear. A deep and painful scream came over the other end, forcing its way into their minds and piercing through their minds and igniting the panic that had numbed when they found safety for the night. It tore through them all like a shard of glass, ripping through them and causing their blood to run cold.

"Stop it," Esther's voice was small, weak, and pained at first, but as the screaming continued, her voice raised and became more urgent. "Shut it off. Stop it!"

Abraham silenced the radio with one switch. The room was engulfed in silence once more. He watched as Esther passed him by and exited the trailer without another word. He called out for her, but she simply closed the door, needing nothing more but to escape.

**.x.**

Daryl found her sat beneath the old apple tree he would climb as a child.

Her knees were raised to her chest and her arms wrapped around them tightly. Her gaze never wavered from the still corpses of their neighbours scattered across the street. He could tell from the whites of her knuckles that she was trying her best to hold on and not let herself slip; she couldn't crumble now, she had responsibilities and lives on the line. People counted on her to keep her head high and emotions locked away, but he could tell from the tremble that coursed through her body that she was struggling.

He took a seat on the bench opposite and rested his crossbow against it. He knew he couldn't say anything to make it better nor could he do anything to ease the pain, but he hoped that his presence would offer her some comfort.

The world was different now, and the spinning plates that they were all trying to keep spinning were all beginning to slip and there was nothing they could do.


	5. 1:4 - Fuel on the Fire

Part One

..

Four

_Fuel on the Fire_

**.x.**

It was a half an hour later when Esther and Daryl returned to the trailer. Merle had stirred himself awake from the emotional outburst from Esther, and now watched as his brother returned with the soldier in tow. He raised his eyebrows mockingly and suggestively at his brother hoping he would catch on to what he was meaning, and when his brother simply rolled his eyes, he knew he understood and didn't appreciate it.

Abraham had watched them return with a more inquisitive gaze. He still sat at the dining table, but the radio was now nowhere in sight; and as Esther and his gaze met one more time, he saw the deep unsettling within her soul. Her gaze was heavy and emotional with a hint of frustration at being incapable of doing anything about it. Her friend had perished; and they had all heard his final moments.

She hated feeling powerless, just like he did. Their friend had sacrificed his life for them to escape, and he had paid the ultimate price. He understood her reactions, and he knew when to follow and approach her and he knew when to leave her be. He had noticed Daryl following behind her; and pondered his actions for a moment. But when he noticed her sat under the apple tree and Daryl taking residence upon the bench opposite, he knew he didn't mean any harm to her or to any of them.

His brother, Merle, however, was a different story.

As the older brother moved into the main room, Abraham was aware of the unsteadiness in his movements, and noticed how drunk he was with the way he ambled out of the bedroom in a rush, the same bottle of whisky and rifle glued to his hands. He knew he was trouble as soon as he had seen him up on the top of his trailer; and he was hesitant to accept Daryl's offer of having accommodation for a while in order to calm the baby down. As Merle moved towards his brother, Abraham moved his attention to the other soldier.

Esther had found her seat opposite him once more, her gaze low and eyes sad. He reached out a reassuring hand for her and noticed her hesitate. There was nothing he could say to make it better for her; she had heard her best friend die over the radio. He understood just how powerless she felt; he felt it too. He was supposed to protect his squad and he was unable to fulfil his role as Sergeant in every sense.

He felt her hand in his, and he lifted his gaze to her. They met eye contact and offered each other a small nod: though it was small, it was heavy with emotion and respect for one another. They had seen things and done things that no one could ever imagine, and this… this was just like that. The world was shifted now, but it still needed them to be focused and prepared for any danger that came their way. They couldn't be off duty just yet.

But just as quickly as he felt her hand in his, it was gone.

"Esther?" A small voice filled the trailer, and all attention moved onto Carol as she stood with the baby.

Esther stood and closed the gap between her and the older woman, concern hanging heavily in the air. "What is it?"

"I was just changing him, and—" Carol began but trailed off as she lifted a note from the front pocket of his dungarees. She handed it to Esther who unfolded it, her eyes scanning over the handwritten scrawl upon the paper.

"My name is Andre," Esther began reading it out loud, her voice soft. "I have a mom called Michonne and a dad called Mike. If you find me, please keep me safe until my mom and dad return. If they do not return to me or you are unable to find them, please care for me as your own."

Carol handed her a polaroid of a happy family, smiling at the camera without a care in the world. They had been so inexplicably happy.

"Andre?" Carol smiled as she cradled the baby in her arms. Though the smile faltered as she acknowledged the danger he had been put in. "Hello, Andre."

Abraham approached them. "Didn't you say he was completely alone in a carrier? No parents around?"

Esther nodded as she folded and pocketed the note. "I called out but there was only the dead around me. There was no one there. I made sure—"

She thought back to the moment she saw the carrier and the baby – Andre – inside. The dead were swarming around him, and even though he was silent, she knew it was only a matter of time before the dead switched their attention onto him. He would get hungry, or cry because he was scared or couldn't sense his mother around him. She wouldn't let that happen. She had called out, all the while taking the dead out with her knife from her boot. She had fought to get to him, and there had been moments that she wondered what would happen if the dead sunk their teeth into her. They had grabbed at her and she had pulled herself out of their grasp quickly.

"Ya think they're still alive?" Daryl asked from behind them. Esther turned to look at him and examined his face, doubting her own memory for a moment.

"I doubt it," Abraham cut in. "The streets were badly overrun. We barely got out ourselves."

"Why leave a baby on its own like that?" Carol asked, her maternal side seeping out. Ed rolled his eyes beside her, having moved closer to his wife. "Who does that?"

No one said anything as the thought of a child having been left on its own in that circumstance being the only thought that filled their mind. Whoever had left their child in that situation must've been desperate; and neither one of them could imagine the raw guilt they must have been feeling.

"Don't," Abraham said abruptly as Esther shared a look with him. "We ain't going back, Williams. There's no way in hell that I'm sending any of us back there. You said yourself that you called out as much as you could and no one rushed back for him. You did your best and that's that."

"But—"

"No buts," Abraham warned her, as the gaze of everyone fell upon the two soldiers. "You let yourself jump into that crowd back there when I warned you not to. You can bet your bottom dollar, I ain't letting you do anything else that's stupid that could get yourself killed. Not before this, and certainly not now."

Esther shook her head defiantly.

"His parents could be out there looking for him now," Esther argued back. "I took their child—"

"Yeah, because he was left behind by them!" Abraham countered, causing Esther to fall silent. She simply shook her head and took a deep breath. "And if you hadn't then he would be dead. He's here and he's safe. That's because of you. He has a chance here. And you heard Fisher. It's a suicide mission out there, girl."

Esther struggled with that. She rubbed the back of her neck anxiously; the sounds of her friend being ripped apart echoing in her mind. She turned to look out the window and tried to calm her breathing; her mind was racing and hurtling down every possible and every logical reasoning for the way she felt. As a soldier, she had to be selfless and protect those around her whether they be civilians or her own squad. To deprive a child of its parents was something she witnessed in war zones; she had seen it too many times that to know it was happening again was hard to accept.

"So, what do we do?" Esther asked him after a beat.

"We protect him like we're already doing," Abraham started slowly. "And we do our best for him. We get him out of this shit hole."

"You always have a way with words," Esther commented with a scoff. "Even in the face of death."

Abraham winked with a smirk. "We head out as soon as dawn arrives."

**.x.**

When the first hints of dawn appeared in the sky and the slivers of golden light peeked through the dark blanket of night, Abraham was up, and ready and nudging Esther awake with his boot. She was lying on the floor, a pillow underneath her head, with her arms and feet crossed having gotten herself settled. He had taken over watch from Daryl, allowing the hunter to rest for a while, and knowing he needed to be alert for when morning descended upon them.

He had come up with plans during the early hours; allowing his mind to conjure up possible routes they could take in order to get to the CDC by noon. The helicopter was his only focus and he knew, as he looked around at the sleeping forms around him, that not everyone would be able to get onto it. Him and Esther were guaranteed a place on the helicopter, but he wasn't sure about the others. As he had stared at the sleeping form of Esther for a moment, he knew it would be difficult for him to break it to Esther when the realisation that not everyone would be able to come with them.

Esther stirred from the first nudge, and rubbed at her eyes, groaning slightly at the lack of sleep she had gotten over the duration of the week. The mere hour of sleep hadn't been enough, but she knew that hour would help her in the long run. She sat up, feeling the cracks in her back as she stretched, her gaze washing over the sleeping forms scattered around the room. Her gaze fell upon the sleeping form of Andre in the make shift bed of a drawer, content and dreaming. She smiled softly at the sight, before allowing her gaze to fall on Abraham.

"When are we heading out?" Esther asked with a yawn.

Abraham glanced at his watch. "In about ten minutes. We'll start waking people up."

It seemed the new voices in his house had stirred Daryl awake, and he sat up from his position on the floor. He exchanged a nod with Abraham before allowing his gaze to fall on Esther as she placed the cushion back on the chair. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"You guys headed out then?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Yeah," Esther nodded. Daryl chewed at his lip and nodded in response. Abraham noticed the exchange between them with a furrowed brow but said nothing.

"I wouldn't usually ask this, but, uh… would there be any room for us?" he asked them. "It's just… it don't look good here. Anythin' from the city will bleed out into here, and I don't wanna take my chances here, if ya know what I mean."

"I ain't leavin'," the voice of his brother came from behind him. "If that's what ya askin' them, brother."

Daryl turned towards Merle. "And ya think everythin' is gonna be fine here? Look around ya, Merle. Ya killed half the fucking street. Some I don't even think were infected."

At this, Esther turned to Abraham who shook his head.

"You can come with us, but on one condition," Abraham began, his attention moving to the older brother. Merle cocked his chin up in a defensive manner and Abraham could only stare at him. "If you dare put any of these people in danger because you cannot control yourself, then we leave you behind. Do you understand?"

"Ya sure ya wanna be talkin' to me like that? Even my own daddy didn't speak to me like that!"

"No, 'cos he talked with his fists," Daryl interjected with a scoff. "But the soldier's right. This ain't a game no more, Merle. We ain't gonna wake up one mornin' and it be back to how it was."

"Ya dare talk to me like that again, _soldier, _I'll beat ya ass," Merle warned with a sneer.

Abraham could only smirk at his response. "Ditto."

As Merle began to square up to Abraham, Esther stepped in between them. She eyed Merle down and shook her head. "Why don't you go pack a bag with only the things you need. And then we can head out, yeah?"

Merle eyed Abraham above her head, but Esther stood her ground defiantly between them. It took a moment for Merle – headstrong and tough – to back down and Esther could only imagine that it was a tough thing for him to do; to accept that there was no fight there. She had sensed his brother approach them, with Daryl knowing what his brother was capable of.

She had seen the state of the outside of their trailer. She had seen the way he had killed his neighbours without a second thought; and Daryl's comment regarding his suspicions that most of them hadn't been infected having raised alarm bells in her head. He was a live wire, unreliable, destructive. She knew their biggest threat, apart from the dead, would be him.

"Listen to her, Merle," Daryl urged him. "Ya better than this."

"Ya know nothin'," Merle sneered, turning to Esther then. "Ya don't know what we've seen here. Ya been protected by ya fuckin' tank and ya walls. Ya haven't been here to see the shit hit the fan."

"Well, we're here now," Esther told him. "You gave us a place to stay for the night, and we're grateful to the both of you. We are. And now we're going to take you out of here, if that's what you want. We're not forcing you to leave with us, I promise."

Abraham could only watch as she handled the situation. Her words were promising, and she was giving him the best of what she had.

"I ain't stayin' here, Merle," Daryl told his brother. "I ain't stayin' here to die. And I want ya to come with me."

"I'll come but on _one condition_," Merle started, reiterating the warning that Abraham had given him. "Ya put me or my brother in danger and I'll kill ya, got that?"

**.x.**

As the mismatched group descended out into the world, the rising sun leading the way and guiding them to the city, they quickly fell into formation. Abraham was at the front, rifle fixed and poised in his hands and watchful eyes observing the area that etched out ahead of them. Carol, Sophia and baby Andre followed behind them closely; the decision for them to be in the middle which would guarantee them protection from any potential threats. Ed and Merle walked either side of them; the latter burning a hole into the back of the male soldier's head. Daryl took the position behind the mother and children, his own crossbow poised in his hands. Esther took the rear and adding protection from the back; which gave her the opportunity to keep an eye out for any stragglers that might have heard them pass by.

They soon reached the suburbs which would then lead them into the city just as the sun engulfed the world in light. A new day; a realisation of the true devastation of the world.

Bodies, still and unmoving, were strewn across the ground like litter. Lives lost to the dead. Carol shielded Sophia from the horror that laid upon each street they passed. Vehicles were abandoned and belongings were left behind; the life of every single person having been destroyed in those few hours as night fell. The situation was immoral and devastating in every sense.

The suburbs slowly passed them by as did the time, and as they ventured into the city, anxious thoughts and panic and uncertainty washing over them at what awaited them. Daryl had fallen behind and now walked beside Esther. The soldier glanced at her watch, noting they were an hour away from noon.

"Ya think this can be fixed?" Daryl had asked after a few moments. His gaze upon the various vehicles on fire on the street.

"No," was all Esther could say. "It's too late."

Esther shared a glance with Daryl and noted the heaviness on his shoulders. He shook his head and kicked a stone as he walked, with the both of them staring at the distance it made.

"I was gonna get outta this place," Daryl scoffed, his voice ceasing to just a whisper. "I signed a lease for an apartment. Had a good job; enough to give me some time away from him, ya know? An' now this."

"I'm sorry," Esther said sincerely. "Life can be cruel sometimes."

Daryl could only nod. And with a shrug, he smirked. "I was _this_ close to escaping from him."

Esther chuckled, and eyed his older brother. "What did you both do before this?"

"Fixed up vehicles," Daryl said. "Just bein' able to find the issue and fix it. Loved it, ya know? And Merle drank my wages."

"You can't choose them, right?"

"I'd want a refund if I did," Daryl chuckled, although Esther could tell he was telling the truth to her. "Ya got any family? Ya ain't from around here, are ya?"

"No, I'm not," Esther shrugged. "It's far from home. Two parents, at home. It hasn't reached them, yet which is, I'm hoping, a good thing. One sibling. She died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry," Daryl whispered, his voice low and genuine.

They fell into a comfortable silence and continued walking into the city. Merle had called Daryl over after a while and Daryl had offered Esther a look of sheer reluctance before heading over to his brother. Esther noticed them talking lowly, with Merle whispering animatedly at him.

The city engulfed them then and it seemed to throw them into silence, sobering them up. There were bodies of people strewn across the roads and sidewalks, with their internal organs missing and chests open and limbs missing all except the bone. The dead were scattered around; which for Esther and Abraham was enough to be wary. They dispatched them quickly and quietly as the group merged together once more.

As Esther took the rear still, she heard something in the distance. Her footfall came to a halt, her brain and hearing searching for the sound. When only silence burned her ears, deafening her for a moment, she wondered if she had even heard anything. She was sure of it, her skills had taught and served her well.

But when she heard it again, she faltered.

The sound of a gun jamming.

"You okay, Williams?"

Esther turned to Abraham who had called out to her. She had fallen back from the group, her back slightly turned from them, searching for the cause of the noise she'd heard. She turned to the group, and narrowed her eyes at him, knitting her brows together in confusion before moving further away from them, her heavy boots light and quiet upon the ground. She raised a hand in Abraham's direction, to which he nodded which allowed her to investigate.

As the remaining members of the mismatched group waited with bated breath, Abraham could feel the hairs on his neck stand on end as she moved out of his view and disappeared down the alleyway. He needed to have eyes and ears on his squad at all times, but it was different now.

It was just him and her.

His men, he assumed, had succumbed to the new world. He hoped with everything that he had that his deepest fears weren't true.

The seconds seemed to drag by the longer she spent out of his line of sight. His palms itched with trepidation.

He noted how Daryl's gaze never wavered from the alleyway either, and how he tightened his grip on his crossbow.

And then he heard it.

Gunshots like lightning bolts crackled through the air around them.

And he wasn't sure who started running first; him or the hunter.


	6. 1:5 - Hold On

Part One

..

Five

_Hold On_

**.x.**

The heaviness to her body was an undeniable one.

The weight to her limbs, abdomen and chest was overwhelming. Every inch of her weakened the longer it lay there, and she wasn't quite sure just how long it had been. Seconds, minutes, hours, she wasn't certain. All she was aware of was the sky above her; the white fluffy clouds passing like ships in the night, allowing the sun to peek through every so often. The sky was a magical blue, a peaceful shade that offered her some comfort in that moment.

She was faintly aware of the tears that stung her eyes before feeling their heat slide down her face and tickle her ears. She attempted to move but she felt as though she was being held down by an invisible weight. The breath within her had been knocked out of her abruptly; a feeling she had been all too familiar with once.

She lay there for a moment, a feeling of peace washing over her. And then the agony hit like lava coursing through her veins, scolding and burning through her pain tolerance and causing a wounded and pained cry to escape her. She was aware of voices surrounding her then, and she knew she needed to spring into action.

Gun cocking and the sound of hushed voices in the distance had all been indicators for her to feel uneasy. What she hadn't expected to find however was a group of three; a man, a woman and a small boy, hiding in the alleyway. When she had descended down the narrow area, she hadn't expected to be ambushed and shot at.

She grabbed at her gun that had been knocked out of her hand from the force of the gunshot and pulled it towards her, aware of the race between herself and the man to get it. As she dragged the gun and herself to the back of the alleyway, her back hitting the stone wall hard, she watched as the man simply raised his hands up in the air in surrender; his body shielding the mother and child behind him.

Footsteps sounded in the distance and she watched as Abraham and Daryl raced towards her, their weapons aimed towards the man.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Abraham hollered, his voice harsh and accusing. "What the fuck did you do?!"

He was pointing his gun at the man whose eyes were wide in alert.

"I thought she was one of them," he stuttered, his eyes staring at Esther. "I didn't see her. I wouldn't have shot at her."

Abraham let out a growl in anger and moved towards Esther. He saw the paleness to her face, the shake of her hands as she held the gun tightly in her grasp, and the blood that was seeping through her uniform. He pulled the gun from her and placed it on the ground, turning his head as he heard the footsteps of the group heading towards them. He heard Carol gasp as she saw the state that Esther was in.

Abraham pulled open her uniform coat, aware of the slickness of her blood on his hands. He noticed the blood soaking the undershirt, the scent of copper heavy in the air. He lifted her shirt and observed the bullet wound to her abdomen that was bleeding out profusely.

"You okay, Williams?"

Esther shrugged, pained. "Been hit worse, I think."

"I can run to the pharmacy," Daryl offered with a second thought.

"No," Abraham said firmly. "No one leaves anyone's side now. That goes for everyone. Including you, Williams."

"Spoil sport," Esther winced.

"You're gonna get me killed one day," he said with some humour in his voice. He watched as she merely stared back at him, the heaviness of the pain wearing heavily upon her.

"Or myself," Esther said, soberly.

"Keep looking at me, yeah?" Abraham turned to her and looked her in the eye. "I have to take the bullet out, okay? Whatever else can be done on the helicopter."

"I want to see your credentials," Esther joked without a laugh.

"You know I don't have them on me," Abraham laughed in response. "It's gonna hurt like a bitch but just keep looking at me, yeah?"

Carol reached her side at that moment and held her hand. Esther found great relief in knowing that Carol was offering her comfort. Even though it was a simple hand hold, it meant everything in the world to her then. As Abraham scrambled around as gently as he could for the bullet, she fought back against him as the agony ripped through her. She grabbed at his forearm to stop him for a moment.

"You hit the once?" Abraham asked her, to which Esther nodded with a wounded grunt. "You're doing well, Williams. We'll be done as soon as I find the little bastard—"

He lifted his hand up then with the bullet that had been lodged in her abdomen between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'm gonna be sick," Esther whispered, before she turned to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach on the ground beside her.

"Let it out, girl," Abraham reassured her as he discarded the bullet with a flick of the wrist. He turned towards Merle who was guarding the whisky bottle, having only taken that from home. "Can you depart with a bit of that? I need to disinfect her wound."

"Army girl shouldn't have gotten herself shot, should she?" he retorted with a slur. Daryl shook his head and closed the gap between him and his brother and yanked the bottle out of his hand.

"Shut up, will ya?" Daryl bit back before Merle could respond to him.

Daryl handed it to Abraham who nodded his thanks to him. The crossbow wielding man simply nodded before the soldier turned back to Esther and poured the soft amber coloured liquid onto her wound, the burn causing some curse words to escape her. Abraham could only smirk.

"That wasn't—nice," Esther grunted with a few pants as she laid her head against the hardness of the wall behind her.

She flinched in pain as Abraham poked the muslin cloth into her wound to stem the bleeding before he added pressure to it.

"I'm gonna have to de-belt you," Abraham exclaimed with a smirk.

"You're married," Esther chuckled before giving him a sombre nod. He shook his head with a playful look on his face knowing that she was trying to make the situation lighter.

"Is she going to be okay?" the woman in the group asked then, knowing that her voice was one that no one wanted to hear. "We're so sorry. We didn't mean any of this—"

Her words were left hanging in the air as no-one answered her back. There was nothing anyone could say to make the situation better or for their actions to have been valid ones. People were going to make mistakes now, Abraham surmised. Scared people were dangerous; their whole inhibitions were out of the window, having left them just as quickly as help did.

Abraham turned towards them then, knowing he had to be the one to warn them. "Whatever you do, don't let this happen again."

They nodded profusely. The man was sombre and apologetic in his response. "Where are you headed? We can help you, to apologise."

"We don't need your help," Abraham said simply, releasing the belt from the hoops of Esther's combat trousers. "You just get to wherever the hell you're going."

Abraham wrapped the belt around her abdomen and tightened it around her frame, locking the thick muslin cloth in place. Esther had lifted herself up from the wall and had rested her head against his shoulder.

"Guys?" Daryl called out then with a hushed voice. "We might wanna hurry this thing up 'cos we got company."

Abraham and Esther turned towards the top of the alleyway to see the dead ambling towards them, hungrily and impatiently trying to reach them.

**.x.**

Ed Peletier had been a kind man once.

_Once._

Through the years, he allowed hate to seep into his heart and cloud every emotion and feeling he had about the world. His love for his wife had been there once, and though it was no longer tangible, she still clung onto the hope that he loved her. But like his love to her having vanished and turned into hate, so did her own love for him.

There was no reason as to why he changed, and maybe that was the most comforting for Carol. She had given him everything that she had and yet it was never good enough for him. His behaviour towards her had changed and his intentions towards their daughter was worrying, so it was no surprise to Carol that Ed had been the first to be claimed by the dead in that alleyway.

She felt relief hit her instantly as she turned to him and observed the dead grabbing him. As the dead gnawed at his neck, taking a chunk out of it with startling ease, emitting a scream like she hadn't heard before from him. He was reaching for her, and she saw the desperation in his eyes.

She felt a hand reach for her. And she turned, a familiarity to the grasp, and saw Esther, hunched over in agony, pulling her away from him. Even when she was wounded, she was still looking out for her.

"We have to go," Esther urged her. And with all the strength that Esther had, Carol allowed the soldier to pull her away from the man who never loved her and who was a danger to their daughter in many ways. As the distance between her and Ed stretched further than she had ever expected, she felt free at last.

All the times she hoped to one day be free of him had been overwhelming; every waking moment and every single thought had revolved around him. But it was as if the clouds parted and the cloudy sky was now allowing a golden ray of sunshine to beam down upon her, and all the fear and hopelessness that drowned her heart a million times ebbed away and the voices became silent just like his screams had.

Hope warmed her heart.

His screams became silent, engulfing the streets in a sombre peace.

She wanted to scream the pain out of her chest, to finally feel the rawness of the scream on her throat. But all Carol could do was let the tears fall, rolling down her cheeks. And she let them. She allowed the salty tear drops to fall from her chin and staining her shirt with droplets. Esther had heard the sobs escape her and squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Esther pulled her towards her, guiding her through the streets and following behind the group of people.

And at that moment, Carol wasn't sure whether she was holding Esther up or if Esther was holding her up.

**.x.**

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention was a formidable building in the city of Atlanta. The domed glass front collected the sunlight and casted beams of reflected light against the grey tarmacked ground. The surrounding area was open plan, with a fountain in the middle of a seating area. Vehicles were in the parking lot, but what seemed to startle them was how the zone seemed to be empty of all life. The dead were nowhere to be seen, a stark contrast to the streets leading towards it.

"This place gives me the creeps," Merle commented, breaking the silence.

Abraham stared at the building for a moment, then towards his watch. Five minutes until the helicopter came to rescue them and reality would set in the others. As he observed the people around him, having lost one and gained three now, he knew there was no way in hell they would be able to rescue all of them. His only priority was getting himself and Esther out of this shit hole and back to Washington.

The others were always going to be left behind.

And he wished Esther could've seen that.

He turned to Esther then, guilt setting in as he took in her appearance.

She was weaker now. Beads of sweat were upon her brow and rolling down the sides of her face. She slid down the wall, exhausted and frail. Abraham was unsettled by her state; he had always acknowledged how strong she was, outrunning even the fastest of men in her squad. She felt she had something to prove, and that was probably why she never gave up or did her best and more.

He closed the gap and bent down beside her. He glanced at his watch once more, subconsciously looking towards the group of people they had adopted along the way. When he turned back to her, she knitted her brows together and her eyes searched his own.

"They're not coming with us, are they?" she asked, her voice low in a whisper. "They were never going to come with us."

Abraham noticed there was no hate in her words, almost like a realisation of sorts. She simply bit her lip and glanced behind him before sighing.

"We can't save everyone," she said sadly. "We can't try?"

The blades beating the air like a small tornado was the first thing they heard. The soft chuffing sound grew in volume until it was upon them, deafening. Esther and Abraham simply stared at each other, tears filling the woman's eyes as he shook his head. The others moved out of the way, covering their eyes as the air blew around them and causing debris from the ground to fly around in response, dancing in the wind.

Abraham helped Esther up to her feet, offering her the stability she needed. As they watched the helicopter descend to the ground, they weren't expecting the sight before them.

They watched as it descended down from a great height, a feeling of guilt replacing the hope that once filled her heart.

But an alarm sounded off in the helicopter; a warning of mayday. Air caught it from beneath, an issue with the engine had sent it into a tailspin and caused the entire vessel to react dangerously. The pilots within it tried with all their might to steady it, but it seemed too late. No-one was going to get out of that alive, and as the helicopter crashed against the hard ground beneath it.


	7. 1:6 - The Hardest Part

Part One

..

Six

_The Hardest Part_

**.x.**

As the fire from the smoking engine ripped through the metal vessel emitting screams from its inhabitant, Esther and Abraham watched in horror as their lifeline burned away. The group faltered as they saw the devastation of the crash, their hopes and dreams of a safe departure from the city diminishing into the air like the smoke.

Esther grabbed at her side and raced towards the helicopter to help the pilot before the flames claimed his life. Abraham noticed his colleague race towards the helicopter, forgetting about her current state of help and pushing it aside to assist another person. There was no way he could stop her; and he wasn't even going to try. He followed behind her and helped her, taking the lead in climbing the burning vessel and pulling open the door. The screams from the man were deafening, the flames licking at the pilot's limbs as it spread quickly into the helicopter.

Abraham understood the severity of the situation, and time being against him in every sense. He grabbed the uniform either side of the pilot's head and, with all his strength, pulled the pilot upwards. The weight of the pilot and the awkward positioning of the helicopter caused Abraham to struggle despite his strength, and he watched as Merle, who had quickly sobered, and Daryl, who laid his crossbow upon the ground, and the man who had identified himself as Shane, had approached them quickly and were helping him pull the pilot to safety.

As they heaved the man out of the helicopter and carried him to safety far away from the vessel that would've claimed his life horrifically, Esther was helped by Lori. As she returned to the group, she watched as the pilot, shaken and panting, watched as the helicopter burned in the distance.

"What your name?" Abraham asked the man, checking the man's vitals. Other than shock, the man seemed to have escaped the carnage unscathed.

The man took a moment to turn to him, finally straying his gaze from the fire. He thought a moment; panic having claimed him in the aftermath of the crash. "It's Morgan."

Abraham simply nodded. "Is there anyone else coming to get us, Morgan?"

Morgan furrowed his brow and shook his head slowly. "There's no-one else."

Abraham stood to his full height then and turned his gaze to Esther. She closed her eyes almost in defeat and held onto her abdomen to support herself. He could see the pain beneath her gaze, and he knew he needed to get her to safety quickly Her injury was substantial and needed to be treated quickly and efficiently; the consequence of leaving it too long now weighing heavily on his shoulders. He wouldn't allow him to think about how far up shit creek he was without a paddle, and he weighed up his options.

He was running out of them, and there was nothing he could do to stop them from disappearing before him. There was only one he could think of potentially working but it was a chance he was willing to take.

He moved over to Esther, pulling her up to her feet, and assisted her towards the CDC. The building was imposing as the group followed suit and followed behind them. He pressed the buzzer a few times after he laid Esther against the glass front. She inspected the wound and noticed the entire muslin cloth had been soaked with blood. She closed her eyes to steady herself emotionally, and as she reopened them, she met Daryl's equally as worried gaze.

_"Can you please refrain from pressing the buzzer?!"_ a female voice came over the intercom.

"We need help," Abraham began explaining. "Will you please let us in?"

_"We are not a hospital," _the woman countered.

"Lady, there aren't any hospitals that aren't going to be overrun by now," Abraham explained to her. "We need help. My colleague has been injured and we _need_ help."

_"I'm sorry but there's nothing we can do," _the woman answered. _"_It's not safe out there. It isn't safe in here, either."

"We have women and children here too," Abraham explained further. "We need to ensure that they are safe for the time being. We just need a place to rest for a little while and to help by colleague with her injuries. Then we'll be gone. Wait, what do you mean, it isn't safe in there?"

_"We closed the doors on the world, sir," _ a man's voice entered his ears then. _"It's better that way_. _Good luck out there."_

As the intercom was shut off, Abraham pressed the buzzer again, except this time, it was silent. He was growing more frustrated and his frustration and anger radiated off him.

"Abraham, stop," Esther winced.

Abraham looked down at her and knitted his brows together. "I can't just stop, Esther. This is… I can't have you…"

"Die?" Esther asked him, noticing the way his body stilled and tensed up. She knew he was desperate to get her to safety; her injury would soon compromise her. He knew that, she knew that. Except, unlike him, she had accepted that thought.

Abraham avoided her gaze then, noting how the rest of the group had fallen silent at her voice.

"If he hadn't have shot you," Abraham said then, aware of Shane being present and in ear shot.

"He was protecting his family," Esther whispered with a sigh. "What is done is done, Abe."

"Don't talk like you're going to…" Abraham fell silent, struggling to even think of the word.

"You can say it," Esther told him. "We see death _every single day_."

Abraham shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "But not with you. You can't _die_."

Esther faltered then as he said it, as if he was confirming her fears. "I want you to promise me that you'll help these people. This is our job. We are trained for this. We may not have duties as soldiers as of right now, but we have a duty as human beings to protect others."

Abraham fell silent, his knees weakening at the thought of her being gone. He allowed himself to crumble to the ground opposite her.

He allowed his eyes to well up with tears that threatened to fall. "And you're okay with this?"

"Hell no," she scoffed, tearfully. "But I don't have a choice. Hospitals are overrun. This place isn't letting people in. I won't allow myself to be a burden to you and everyone getting out of this place."

Abraham punched at the ground, his knuckles pounding the hard cement in frustration.

"Abe, don't do that," Esther warned him softly, to which he stilled.

"There's a nursing home around here," Lori's voice wafted over to them. "My grandmother was a resident there before she died. There was a small infirmary and a pharmacy there so everything could be on site. It might still be up and running?"

"We could try?" Carol asked, tearfully.

"There's no harm in trying," Esther whispered with a nod. "At least then, we know we've done everything we could. And that's okay."

Abraham met her gaze. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to his friend just yet. He wasn't willing to give up unless it was completely out of his control.

"Fuck this," Abraham cursed, standing to his full height, and lifting Esther off the ground. "Eyes and ears everywhere, got that? Merle, we need you. Take Esther's gun. Lori, you tell us where to go, yeah?"

And with the sun beaming down on them, they navigated their way through the streets, now overrun with the dead. As gunshots filtered through the streets, Abraham knew time was running out, but he would do everything in his power to stop the inevitable from happening.

**.x.**

The Atlanta Nursing Home was a protected compound that served its residents well during the early days of the outbreak. As the world around them panicked and fled their homes, the residents of the nursing home as well as most of the staff remained. As Felipe and Guillermo did their rounds that morning, they noticed nothing that seemed to worry them. As soon as the outbreak had rolled out into the streets of Atlanta, they had shut the nursing home off from the world, protecting its residents from the dangers of the outside world. While some of the staff members fled the building to meet up with their families or to attempt to evacuate the city, Felipe had stayed put knowing that there was no way the residents would be able to cope nor fend for themselves.

As the days had passed, familiar faces began to appear. Guillermo, Jorge, Miguel and Carlito had found seeking safety from their workplace, and with their help, Felipe was able to breathe a little easy.

Felipe and Guillermo were both nurses within the establishment and took over the care of the elderly residents. Jorge and Carlito took over the kitchen, providing everyone with enough food to cater the entire building. Miguel assisted them both when one of them needed support. The residents knew nothing of the outside world, and for Felipe, that was better than them knowing the threat outside.

But he knew as the world grew darker around them, and with them being right in the hot seat, they needed to protect themselves and the residents. He needed to ensure their safety above all else; he couldn't allow them to die, not just yet.

So, it was a surprise to Felipe when he was conducting his hourly check of the outside to see a group of people coming his way. He had watched countless dead pass through the streets the last few days, and though he was around living people in the building, it was strange to see people – actual live humans – on the street outside.

Immediately, he felt on edge.

He was aware of rioters taking chances in looting stores around the city. He observed them for a few moments, ensuring that his cover wasn't blown, and he was able to watch them without them noticing him.

A woman with two children; a young infant and a young girl. Two men armed with guns; one who was obviously in the police by the way he carried himself, and one who clearly was on the other side of the law. Another man who looked worse for wear. One man armed with a cross bow. A woman and a young boy who clung to her side. And a male soldier carrying an unconscious female soldier.

Desperation situations caused for desperate decisions. And desperate people would do anything for help.

As Felipe came out from his hiding spot, the guns immediately being aimed at him. He knew that they were in no position to defend themselves, not when one of their own was injured.

"She been bit?" he called out to them.

The red-haired man shook his head. "She was shot. There's an infirmary here, right? Can you help us?"

"Yeah, there's an infirmary. Ain't no-one here to help though," he told them. "Ya heard there's dead people walking?"

"Have you got the medical supplies? We can be in and out," Abraham told him. He knew the man wouldn't help them without a price; when someone needed something urgently, you could guarantee that it came with a cost.

Felipe shrugged. "Sure. But I want something in return."

Abraham cursed internally.

"What is it?" Carol urged.

"For your friend there to live," Felipe pondered for a moment. "We want your weapons. All of them."

**.x.**

Abraham Ford was not a man who took deals lightly.

As he stared that the Hispanic man in front of him, he considered his options. If he gave him their weapons then that would leave them with nothing to defend nor protect themselves with when it came to them leaving. But he knew that there was no way they were going to get the help they needed or the medical supplies that Esther required without them giving them something.

Their weapons were their lifeline, and without them, Abraham knew that he might as well holler at the dead and get them to kill him now.

"No," Abraham called out. "I'm not giving our weapons to you. I can't afford to do that, not here and not in our situation."

"Then it's a no deal—" Felipe shrugged before turning his back on them.

"—But I can give you something much better than that," Abraham called out to him, hoping that he didn't come across as desperate. Except, he was desperate. He glanced down at the woman in his arms, fading in and out of consciousness as shock claimed her. "I have a radio and supplies in our backpacks. There're weapons in there, too. You can have all of them. But not the ones that we have in our hands. We need those to even make it out of here alive."

"Your friend don't look too good," Felipe narrowed his eyes at him. His eyes lingered upon the woman. "How long she been shot?"

"Two hours," Abraham said quickly.

"She's lost a lot of blood already," he called to them. "It's a deal. You better get your friend in here quick if you want her to survive."

With the dead closing in on them, the mismatched group raced into the gated building. As they passed Felipe on the balcony, Daryl turned to Felipe and tipped his head towards the dead stumbling towards them.

"How've you been sorting these guys out?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"Never had any come across us until now," Felipe shrugged. "But now I can protect my people, just in case."

Daryl eyed the man before nodding. He followed behind his brother who never strayed too far from him.

**.x.**

The infirmary was everything they were expecting an nursing home in the city to be.

It was separated into four areas: a small common area with plastic chairs and a television set that had a blank screen, a small reception desk with folders stacked high on the surface and a clock that was stuck on the same time; a supply cupboard that provided the entire facility with its necessary provisions, and a lot of them; and a room with hospital beds lining the walls and curtains to separate them, with pictures of the city adorning the white walls; and an examination room that was as meek as every other room. It lacked any colour and personality, but it was something that didn't require much other than the medical attention provided.

As Abraham laid Esther on the examination table, he watched as Felipe and Guillermo slipped on gloves and started to examine the young woman. The rest of the group remained outside, the waiting room offering them some comfort. Abraham wanted to question the two men; and Guillermo seemed to sense his hostility straight away.

With a smile, he turned to the soldier who was like a trapped animal, struggling with the confines of his own fear. "Don't worry," Guillermo started. "We're trained nurses. We know what we're doing."

"Is she going to make it?"

Abraham's question was left hanging in the air for longer than he would've liked. He saw the two men glance at each other, a knowing look passing between them. Felipe was the one to take the lead.

"We're going to need you to stand outside," he said.

"I need to know she's going to be safe," Abraham urged, desperately.

"We've treated gunshot wounds on our guys before," Guillermo tried to reassure him. "We're not doctors but we're going to do our best."

"You promised the weapons from your backpack," Felipe began.

"Hey, let's help her out first, shall we?" Guillermo shook his head. "We can talk about deals later. Right now, she can't wait any longer."

Abraham agreed and reluctantly exited the room. He took a seat next to Carol and the children.

Her safety was paramount, but her life was hanging in the balance. And he felt the control begin to slip out of his grasp.

**.x.**

_She was swimming in the deepest of seas._

_The water around her was cool and soothed her weary bones and exhausted limbs. She could feel herself slipping away, and she felt okay with that. It was a strange sensation, one that she had been all too familiar with. But she was at peace, and nothing in the world mattered in that moment._

_She dared to peek and found herself to be cast out in the middle of the ocean. She laid on her back, allowing the water to support her as she allowed the sunshine to beam down on her face, its warmth radiating over her glistening skin._

_She allowed a deep breath to fill her lungs as she basked in the peace._

_But then she was being pulled from underneath, a cloaked figure having grabbed her foot causing her to be dragged down to the bottom of the ocean. Darker and darker her world was becoming and there was nothing she could do to drag herself back up the surface. She fought against it but she was powerless, the strength in her body weakening the longer she was being dragged for._

_And then she saw them._

_The bodies of her squad hanging in the water, eyes closed and bodies still. May, Kilner, Jeffries, Wilson and Fisher were circled around her. She reached for them but like the water was freezing around her, preventing her from moving towards them._

_One after the other, their eyes opened. But their eyes were unseeing and their jaws snapping. They were reaching for her and advancing towards her, breaking free from the invisible restraints._

_She fought against the invisible ties that bound her in place. And just like that, just as they had reached her, they were gone._

_And then… in the distance, she saw him._

_Abraham._

_Floating just like she had, but he was floating in the water and not on the surface. She furrowed her brow and called out to him, except her voice was silenced. A mere bubble escaped her mouth._

_But he turned to her and she saw him in his entirety._

_His face was stained in crimson liquid. He was staring at her, pleading with her. Blood seeped from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. He was coughing and coughing and yet—_

_She felt nothing but pain in that moment. Fiery, scorching heat burned within her body, overwhelming every sense and feeling that she had, and she found herself falling further and further down into the depths of the ocean, the darkness turning red as the water reacted to her pain._

_And then, nothing._

_And she wondered if it had even happened, but the pain was a tangible one. She had felt it, and it had to be real. Inexplicably real._

_Esther felt herself being hauled upwards, the grasp on her foot having been replaced with freedom. She allowed herself to be pulled up to the surface where light – bright and intrusive – welcomed her like an old friend._

**.x.**

The pain hit her like a freight train as consciousness returned to her.

It wasn't death that she feared, she realised in that moment, it was the pain. She always told herself that if the day came where she didn't wake up in the morning that it would be fine, she would know nothing of it; her life having been a fleeting affair in the grand scheme of it all.

She had felt the sheer depths of grief in its entirety and knew there was nothing like it. She grieved for the loss of her sister; her death having been preventable, but she had been too late to get to her. She knew of physical pain, and she knew of emotional pain, and she wasn't sure which was worse.

She had cried until the tears ran dry and stung her eyes. She felt her chest cave in until her breathing became laboured and strenuous. She felt the way her entire body felt as though it was on fire and how numb it felt all at once.

She had seen her men die. She had been involved in near death experiences. She had been injured and wounded, and she been hurt by words and feelings. Pain, in its entirety, felt the same in that moment. Emotional and physical went hand in hand and would always do so.

But right now, the pain within her was like a wildfire that spread across every inch of her body, engulfing her in invisible flames that were relentless and persistent.

"Hey, hey… breathe for me," a voice, one that was unfamiliar to her, entered her mind.

Her world was still dark, the pain even causing her eyes to scrunch up in response.

"We're going to give you some morphine for the pain," the same voice called out to her. "Just hold on…"

She was slipping into unconsciousness once more, and she knew it was due to the pain. She didn't fight it this time.


	8. 1:7 - Nobody

Part One

..

Seven

_Nobody_

**.x.**

"What's the plan if soldier girl dies?"

Merle's voice wasn't as quiet as he had believed it to be. He watched in sync as the group's heads all snapped in his direction, a variety of emotions upon their faces. Sadness, guilt, anger, fear. He turned to his brother then, the recipient of the initial question, and saw an array of emotions upon his brother's face as his gaze was upon someone across the room. He lifted his gaze up to the male soldier and noticed how he furrowed his brow at Daryl; a glance being shared between them.

"Her name is Esther," escaped Daryl's mouth before he could stop himself.

"Sounds like someone has a crush," Merle smirked. "Shame she's knockin' on death's door. The only girl ya liked since Mandy and she gets shot."

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl warned him.

But Merle was willing to poke the bear a little more. "Ya don't have much luck with the ladies, do ya? Ya don't have the good ol' Merle charm. Ya pussyfootin' around bein' _nice _and Merle's already got their knickers off an' hangin' them off the doorknob. Ya need to be a bit more like me, brother."

"Ya never know when to shut your mouth, do ya?" Daryl turned to his brother then, his gaze full of venom. "Ya just keep goin' and goin' until there's nothin' left. And then ya keep going 'cos ya don't care about anyone else but ya self."

"Ooh, touched a nerve, have I, brother?"

"Yeah, you goddamn have," Daryl raised his voice as he stood from his seat. "A girl is in there fightin' for her life and all ya can talk about how easy it is for Merle Dixon to get his leg over. Right now, we're here. If ya don't like it then good luck out there."

"Ya really sayin' that? Ya want me to go? I didn't even wanna come here but I knew how important it was to ya," Merle hit back.

"All ya been doin' since then is getting wasted," Daryl shook his head in disbelief. "What ya done for any of us, Merle?"

"I gave her a bit of my whisky, which I haven't gotten back yet," Merle scoffed, his gaze falling on Abraham.

Daryl feigned shock and clapped his hands together mockingly. "Oh, well done, Merle. I'm surprised she ain't up and runnin' again with what ya done for her."

"Don't get snarky with me, little boy," Merle stood to his full height then and squared up to Daryl.

Abraham broke them apart, a hand extending between them. "Hey, why don't you go cool off, Merle?"

Merle pushed Abraham's arm away from him, a look of repulsion etching across his face. As Merle backed away, he raised his hands in the air. "Don't forget where ya loyalty stands, little brother."

Daryl remained silent as Merle left the waiting area. Abraham observed him for a moment and noticed how his jaw was tense and how the whites of his knuckles were a stark contrast to his natural tanned skin as he clenched his fists together. Speckles of redness from suppressed anger built up on his neck, and Abraham had to wonder just how long his anger had been lingering for. It seemed to Abraham that Merle was always the catalyst for such a reaction from Daryl; every word coming out of his mouth stung in many ways and how they only seemed to add fuel to the anger that burned within him. Every word said was with malice and was always intended to provoke a reaction in him.

"Hey," Abraham laid a hand upon Daryl's shoulder; reassuring and gentle. "Are you okay?"

Daryl tore his gaze from the place his brother had been. He saw the caring nature of the soldier as his eyes bore into him. He felt the hand on his shoulder and reacted as though he had just been scolded, causing Abraham to stand back. "I'm fine."

Abraham nodded and offered him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to stay with us," he told him with a glance to the door that Esther was behind. "You can set out on your own. You don't owe us anything."

Daryl glanced towards the door, too. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Abraham allowed himself to glance towards the floor. He shuffled his feet, uncomfortably. "Honestly?"

Daryl nodded, knowing it wasn't the answer any of them wanted to hear.

"I don't think so," Abraham shook his head sadly. He chewed on his lip for a moment, struggling to voice his own emotions. "It'd be a miracle if she makes it out of here alive."

"She's a fighter though," Daryl countered. "Only known her a short amount of time and I know she's determined."

Abraham snorted. "She's stubborn."

"Ain't that a good thing, though?" Daryl asked with a furrowed brow. "Stubbornness gets a bad rap. But she looks out for everyone even though she might get hurt. She's always thinkin' about other people."

"Maybe you're right," Abraham smiled.

"I'd want her on my team," Daryl said genuinely. "I ain't a praying man but I sure as hell am praying for her to make it out of this alive. And I can bet my final dollar that everyone here is doin' the same."

Abraham thanked him. "Go find your brother. Life was short before but it sure as shit is shorter now. I'll get you if anything happens."

Daryl nodded, and with one final glance at the door went to find his brother leaving Abraham standing there.

Running a hand over his exhausted face, he turned back to the waiting room. Carol was watching him with an inquisitive look; the children beside her sleeping as peacefully as they could. He closed the gap between them and took a seat opposite her.

"How are you feeling?"

Carol shrugged after a moment. "I feel numb. But free."

Abraham simply nodded, acknowledging what had happened back there. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"It isn't a loss you should be sorry for," Carol whispered. "He was an asshole. He put me and our daughter through hell. He got what he deserved."

Abraham nodded once more, his mind wandering.

"He's right, you know," Carol began, causing Abraham to look up.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah," Carol smiled. "If it wasn't for her, I know that Sophia and I wouldn't be here. She saved our lives out there. She saved Andre."

"I'm scared," Abraham lowered his voice and sat forward, his elbows resting upon the tops of his thighs.

"It's only natural to be scared when faced with a situation like this one," Carol offered some comfort, and though her words were reassuring, Abraham struggled with them.

"She was… she was only back in active service for a month before _this_," Abraham began, his gaze lifting to Merle and Daryl as they came back into the room, their row having been sorted out and forgotten. "She was taken hostage. Tortured for days. We found her just in time. She was in a bad shape. It's not my place to tell you this but… she doesn't deserve to die today."

"And let's hope she doesn't," Carol whispered, softly. "She's strong."

Abraham nodded, a look of remembrance etching across his face as he remembered how she had been in those moments after being found. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I kept thinking that if we hadn't gotten there in time then that was it. She would've been gone and there would've been nothing I could do. It took her months of rehabilitation and counselling to get back to how she was, but she wasn't fully back to being herself. There's no coming back from that. I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"It's good to talk," Carol reassured him, tears filling her eyes. She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

"I should've been more careful," he whispered, bitterly. "If I lose her… then… I don't know what I'd do."

The door to the examination room opened and the group faltered. Abraham found himself standing as the others waited with bated breath. Felipe and Guillermo stood there, aware of the amount of people expecting good news. Felipe shuffled his feet and pulled off his gloves.

"She's stable but she's weak," Guillermo announced to the waiting room. "She lost a lot of blood. She's had a lot of morphine. Time will tell, but she should be okay."

The fear and worry that clasped tightly at his heart melted away as a sigh of relief escaped him. The world that was spinning around him stopped for a moment as he understood that she wasn't out of the woods now, and it was the start of her recovery. She needed time to recover and rest, and he acknowledged that it wouldn't be an easy feat to get to her to do that. As stubborn as she was, he knew her intentions meant well. She was her own worst enemy, and he was sure he was his own.

"Can I go see her?"

Guillermo nodded. "Of course. She's pretty out of it, though."

"Thank you," Abraham said genuinely. His gaze fell upon the pilot of the helicopter. "Would you mind checking him out, too? He got pretty banged up in a crash."

Guillermo and Felipe nodded and moved towards Morgan who was sat stunned and staring into space, the effects of the helicopter crash and his near-death experience plaguing his mind. As Abraham walked past Morgan, he laid a hand upon the man's shoulder, aware of the shakiness to his body as fear overwhelmed him.

Abraham took a deep breath and prepared himself to see Esther in the state she was in. As he pulled back the curtain and saw her, she shook his head in disbelief, sadness clogging his throat.

She looked broken laid there on the examination table, her abdomen wrapped tightly with a bandage. Her undershirt and jacket had been removed, and a piece of cloth had been placed over her bra and chest to cover her modesty. His eyes wandered over towards the blood-soaked material on the table next to her. An IV was attached to her arm and giving her the pain relief she desperately needed.

He closed the gap between them and watched the pained look on her face and the way her brow was furrowed even when she was unconscious.

Abraham pulled a chair beside her and held her hand. And with a deep breath, he did the one thing he never did. He wasn't a man who believed, but in that moment, it was all he could do to ensure she made it out alive.

**.x.**

The room was engulfed in darkness as consciousness pulled her out of the depths of her mind. She blinked a few times to capture her surroundings but under the blanket of darkness, she was unable to figure out where she was. A soft light was on in the distance that allowed her to notice she was indoors; her location still being unknown to her. She attempted to stop herself from falling into a panic by observing her closer surroundings; a hospital curtain obscuring her view of what was beside her, and machines on her other side.

Esther lifted her hand up and saw an IV in her hand. She inspected it closely, wincing as a flash of pain in her abdomen shot at her in the dark.

"Hey, hey," a voice sounded to her right. She squinted against the darkness and saw the shape of Daryl moving towards her. "Try not to move, okay? Ya okay."

Esther observed him for a moment. "Where am I?"

"Ya at the nursing home that Lori told us about," Daryl explained to her. "How ya feeling?"

She blinked a few times before licking her dry lips. "Like I've been shot."

Daryl smirked and let out a small laugh. "I see ya still got ya sense of humour."

Esther laughed softly before wincing.

"Do ya need more morphine? I can call the nurses back?" Daryl watched as her face contorted in pain for a moment.

"No," Esther whispered. "I'm fine. It's just… I want to feel it for a while."

Even under the blanket of darkness that filled the gap between them, she could see the furrow on his brow as he questioned her silently.

"I thought I was going to die," Esther explained further, knowing the silence was a question. "So, this… this pain is better than seeing them like that again."

"Seeing who?"

Esther turned to Daryl then and shook her head. "Nothing. I'm talking rubbish."

Daryl's voice was low, concerned. "Ya sure?"

"Yeah… it's nothing," Esther reassured him. "Is Abe around?"

"He's talking to the guys about a deal."

"A deal? What deal?"

**.x.**

Abraham watched as the group of men talked among themselves.

When he was called down into the office to talk about a deal, he wasn't expecting the group of men to multiply by a significant amount. He was severely outnumbered, and he was beginning to feel unsettled. The office in question was in a large basement area underneath the city, with exposed and graffiti covered brickwork.

Felipe returned to the table. "It's a no deal. We want _all_ your weapons. Or the girl stays with us."

"That's a no deal," Abraham shook his head. "Like I told you, we have weapons in our backpacks. We have supplies. They're all yours if you want them to be. The weapons we have on our person are ours. We aren't getting out of the city without them."

Felipe scoffed. "The deal's changed now."

Abraham simply shook his head. "It would be suicide if we tried to get three young children out of the fucking city with no weapons to protect us.

He heard a gun cock beside him, and he turned in time to see a man the same height as him standing there with a gun aimed at his head. He felt the world shift around him as he acknowledged the fact that they had lied to him about being unable to protect themselves and their residents.

"Are there any residents still living here? Or is that a lie, too?"

Felipe smirked, turning towards his men with a smirk. "They're still here. We aren't that bad that we'd kill them at the first opportunity. Who do you think we are?"

As the burning sensation of fear prickled the skin on the back of his neck, he was aware of the immediate danger he was in. He was outnumbered significantly and counted forty against one. He thought of the group upstairs above him, unaware of the potential danger they were all in. If he was shot and killed then they wouldn't know the threat against them until it was too late.

Abraham released a breath that he was holding in and held his hands up in surrender. But as he opened his mouth, it was the sound of another gun behind him that caught his attention.

"You might want to put those down," Esther's voice filled his ears and he turned to catch her gaze, but she remained locked eyes with Felipe. "Apparently you had no weapons, and now you do? That's _magic_."

Felipe chuckled, finding the whole situation amusing. "You should've known to not ask for help in this world now. Look around you. You don't just trust anyone and not expect to get burned."

"Let's talk about a deal, yeah?" Esther ignored him which seemed to rile him up more. "How about… we leave here, and you live."

Felipe furrowed his brow. "No, sweetheart. You aren't leaving just like that. You have a price to pay. All your weapons. How many times do I have to repeat myself? We saved your life. You owe us."

"And I'm telling you, _sweetheart,_ that isn't going to happen," Esther narrowed her gaze at him. "I suggest you tell your buddy here to step away from my colleague before I shoot him dead."

"You won't do that," Felipe chuckled with a shake of his head.

Esther bit her lip and shrugged, redirecting her aim towards the man. She then aimed the gun at his kneecap and released a bullet from the chamber. The man faltered and collapsed to the ground in agony, screams emitting from him.

"I only shot him in the leg to give you more time," Esther said, deadpan. "He will bleed out. So, is it a deal? Or shall we keep him screaming out in pain?"

Felipe and Guillermo faltered then. Guillermo nudged the former and shook his head. "This ain't a game anymore. We take the deal."

"Then we'll get out of here," Esther nodded. "One wrongful move from _any _of you, and we will take you all out, got that?"

Guillermo nodded to her. "You have ten minutes to get out of here and then we'll start shooting."

**.x.**

With everything they had in their backpacks and on them, they ventured back out into the city just as the sun began to rise, a canopy of gold and pink hues amid the darkened blue. As night surrendered, the threat within the streets was still a formidable one. With eyes and ears focused on every sight and sound around them, they worked efficiently well as they navigated through the narrow streets.

They resumed their formation from the day before, except this time, Abraham and Esther took the rear and Daryl and Merle took the front.

As Abraham and Esther walked side by side, he turned to her.

"How did you know?"

Esther turned to him and shrugged. "Daryl told me about a deal. Something didn't sit well with me."

Abraham nodded, falling silent. "Thank you… for coming after me."

"Thank you for putting us all in danger to make sure I was okay," Esther chuckled softly. "Let's not make it a habit, okay?"

Abraham nodded before smirking. "Putting everyone in danger or you getting shot?"

"Ooh, ouch," Esther laughed. "Both, I guess."

They walked in silence for a while, watching as Daryl and Merle dispatched of the dead up ahead. Esther watched them work together, acknowledging how they worked in silence. There were only a few moments where both soldiers prepared to assist them, but they seemed to hold it together.

"How are you feeling?" Abraham kept his voice low. He could still see the pain contorting her face every so often,

Esther shrugged. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Daryl mentioned… you saw something when you were out of it," Abraham tread carefully, knowing that Daryl had told him in confidence after seeing Esther in such a state. He noticed his friend tense up at the mere mention of it.

"I saw you die," Esther told him bluntly. "I saw our whole squad dead. But they were like _them_."

A look of empathy was shared between them, and neither one of them said a word.

"I'm not going anywhere," Abraham said after a moment.

Esther nodded, "Ditto."

Abraham scanned their surroundings and glanced at his watch. He looked towards the group walking in front of them, taking in their slouched shoulders and exhausted movements. "We should find somewhere to rest for a while."

"Where're you thinking?"

"There's a lot of department stores around here," Abraham suggested. "We could try and get some more supplies. Get you some new clothes because they're not in a good state. And we could come up with a plan of action. We need to know what our next move is, and whether it's just us or as a group."

"I'm not leaving them behind," Esther warned him, remembering their conversation from before. "They trust us. That's everything."

"I'm not saying that, Williams. We need to know if they want the same as us," Abraham replied. "Can we say the same for the others?"

"You don't trust them?" Esther asked him, to which he shook his head.

"We can't trust people now. You heard it from Morgan earlier. We're on our own," Abraham said with a sigh. "You saw it back there. It's just us now. Us and them."

"They've given us no reason not to trust them," Esther acknowledged. "In fact, they've given us all the reasons to trust them more."

"It's been a week since the outbreak and look at how people have changed," Abraham told her. "And it's only going to get worse, Esther. If we don't bounce now, we're going to get dragged down. We could be on our way to Washington right now."

Esther watched the group walk in front of them; people from all walks of life having found each other in the depths of the outbreak. Death and destruction surrounded them and yet, together, they worked well. They were all still strangers, but they had chosen to stick together. And though there might be moments where they break apart and change paths, they would always remember the first few days.

"We have no loyalty to them," Abraham explained to her. "We owe them nothing."

But as the words fell in the air around them, they didn't settle well with her.

_You can't save everyone._

But she sure as hell would try.


	9. 1:8 - Homesick

Part One

..

Eight

_Homesick_

**.x.**

The department store offered them some comfort.

Whilst a few of them got their heads down and napped for a while, the rest of them went searching for supplies. As they searched through the empty aisles, pulling new and new clothes off mannequins and off the racks and found batteries, torches, new arrows and sturdy shoes. Abraham remained on watch as the others enjoyed finding new things to adopt as their own without the consequence of being caught by staff.

A quick sweep of the store had conjured up no sign of life – living or dead – and Abraham finally felt a rush of relief wash over him. He watched as Esther walked slowly up and down the aisles of the clothing store they were inhabiting, her hand grazing over the hangers. She had a few shirts hanging over her arm and a look of wonder on her face.

He watched with amusement as she looked up at him and shrugged, a wide smile on her face. Carol moved towards her, and he could tell she was a little hesitant about choosing new clothes. As she diverted her attention onto Carol, Abraham started making plans of their next plan.

"Hey," Esther said to Carol as the woman came to stand beside her. "Have you found anything that's taken your fancy?"

"There's just too much choice," Carol said nervously. "And it's all so nice. I've never had nice clothes like these."

She pulled a dress out from the rack and inspected it. It was a soft pink floral summer dress. Esther could see Carol's eyes widen in adoration for the garment.

"You should try it on," Esther urged. "I bet it would look lovely on you."

"Oh, I couldn't," Carol whispered, placing it back on the rail. "Is this… right? Are we doing the right thing?"

"In what sense?"

"Taking clothes like this?" Carol asked, her voice low. "It just seems… I feel like we're going to get into trouble."

"We're not," Esther reassured then furrowed her brow. "Well, I hope not. But no-one's here telling us any different. Let's think of this as our clothing montage that every movie has."

Carol giggled softly and nodded thoughtfully. "I've always wanted one of those."

"Then let's have one," Esther smirked playfully. She reached for the dress that Carol had returned to the rail and passed it to her.

The two women headed towards the changing rooms, with Esther grabbing something off the rail as they walked. They both headed into separate stalls and tried the new clothes on; but for Esther, it was a struggle. She gave up after a number of attempts at putting the dress on and sat on the bench, her gaze falling on her reflection in the mirror. She was pale and gaunt, exhaustion well and truly taking over. The events over the last day had taken its toll on her and she was feeling overwhelmed in every sense.

She stood up and inspected the bandage wrapped around her abdomen. She weakened as she laid a hand over it. How close had she been to death? The very thought made her stomach drop. Esther quickly changed into a clean white t-shirt and redressed herself in her army attire and heavy boots. She exited the changing room before Carol and waited on the bench.

Carol came out of the changing room soon after, a hesitant smile on her face and glanced at herself in the mirror. The dress clung to her body in all the right places, emphasising her figure. The hue of the dress complimented with her complexion and greying hair. But she faltered as all she could see was the faint bruises and scars adorning her arms that she always covered up as well as the bruises on her collarbone and chest.

"You look beautiful," Esther whispered next to her. "It was made for you."

"You think?"

Esther nodded genuinely. Carol took a deep breath in, steadying herself, and turned to look at herself in the mirror once more.

"I love it," she whispered, happily. "Are you… trying anything on?"

"No," Esther shook her head sadly. "I couldn't… it didn't suit me."

Carol observed her for a moment, before nodding. "I'm going to change and then we can head back?"

Esther nodded and watched the woman disappear behind the curtain. Movement in the mirror caught her attention and she advanced towards it; the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she thought about the last time she heard something. With a gentle touch to her bandaged wound, she traipsed slowly where she had seen it.

She paused, her gaze falling on Daryl as he was in the men's section, adjacent to the women's. She watched him for a moment, a soft smile on her face. She stole a glance at the piece of clothing he was holding.

The vest was leather and adorned two wings on the back. He lifted it up to see it in its entirety.

"That's cool," Esther's voice caused him to falter. He turned to her and met her gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It's fine," Daryl mumbled with a shrug. "Way out of my price range anyway."

"It's on me," Esther joked. "Take it. Take two, even. No one is going to be asking questions."

Daryl watched as she walked away, her movements cautious and wary. He saw the padding of the thick bandages underneath her new t-shirt. As she disappeared into the changing rooms, he hesitated putting it back on the rail. With one last glance in the direction she went, he took it off the hanger and slipped it on.

**.x.**

"Found these guys."

Esther looked up from playing with Andre, to see Abraham ambling towards them, arms laden with packs of walkie talkies and batteries. She watched as everyone took one as the soldier handed them out to them all.

"It should help if one of us gets separated, or if we have to do supply runs for food or something," Abraham explained to them as everyone set their own up. "Which brings me onto a difficult subject, and one that we've all been avoiding. What is everyone's long term plans with this?"

"It's only been a week," Shane interjected, disbelief causing his head to shake. "We haven't been able to mourn our old lives yet."

"Well ya better kiss that goodbye," Merle commented, playing around with his walkie talkie.

"Thank you, Merle, for your wise words," Shane bit back. "It's just… how can we make a long-term plan when we don't even know if this thing is able to be rectified?"

"It's simple," Merle commented once more. "Ya just get the fuck over that bridge instead of sobbin' into ya pillow at night and wake the fuck up."

"Can you please stop swearing in front of the children?" Carol hissed at him, causing Merle to throw up his hands in surrender.

"The dead are walkin', sweetheart, and ya worried about a few cuss words? Need ya priorities sorted cos they're fu—"

"—Merle," Daryl warned him which caused him to quieten.

"I see the mutt has an off switch," Shane smirked.

"Ya wanna say that to my face?!" Merle growled, but a hand on his chest from his brother stopped him in his tracks.

"We don't need any of us fightin'," Daryl explained. "The whole world is against us, it don't need us bein' at each other's throats, too."

"Daryl's right," Esther interjected. "We need to stay calm and _listen_ to each other."

Merle scoffed. "Why ya lookin' at me, girl?"

"It's just an observation," Esther smirked. "But we do have to have that conversation. We'll go through the group and ask. Shane and Lori… what are your plans?"

Shane turned to Lori and spoke. "We were thinking about Fort Benning. Do you know if it's still intact?"

"I couldn't say," Abraham answered honestly. "It could be. It might not be. The only way you'd know is if you head there and see, but that's a big gamble."

Lori nodded thoughtfully, her gaze falling on Carl who was sat beside Sophia with the both of them reading a book. "It's a really big gamble. I don't know if it's worth taking Carl all the way there just for it to be overrun. I can't take that chance, Shane. You know what Rick would say."

"Rick ain't here," Shane lowered his voice, but the gazes of everyone was burning him. Lori bowed her head in sadness, her gaze avoiding him. "It's always going to be tough, but Rick would want the best for you and Carl."

"Rick?" Abraham asked, to which Lori let out a sob.

"He's my husband," Lori explained, watchful of Carl at that moment. "He was shot whilst on duty before this outbreak."

Esther stole a glance at the little boy who was unaware of the conversation around him, finding him totally engrossed in the book he was reading. "Is he alive?"

"He's in a coma," Shane explained. "I couldn't bring him with us."

"So ya left him to die?" Merle interjected with raised eyebrows. "Wow. Ya some friend. Supposed ya ain't banging her?"

"What the fuck?" Shane shouted, as Merle simply smirked at him.

"That's enough!" Abraham's voice boomed through the area, bringing the two squabbling adults into silence. "Do I have to bang your heads together?!"

When the two men remained quiet, Abraham threw a look at Esther. She was just as confused as he was. Abraham continued after a moment. "Fort Benning could still be standing. But you have a small child with you. And I can only assume everyone who couldn't get into a safe zone around here would've headed there."

"I don't feel confident, Shane," Lori whispered, her voice gentle and cautious. "Carl is my main priority now. I can't…"

"That's that then," Abraham nodded, turning towards Daryl and his brother. "Where are you headed?"

Daryl shrugged and bit his lip. "Where do you suggest?"

"Don't go to any cities, if you can," Abraham informed them. "I'd head into the country if possible. Stay away from roads and highways. If you are thinking about leaving then I'd do it soon."

"An' what about you two?" Daryl asked, gaze skimming over both soldiers. "Ya stickin' around, or?"

"We're heading back to base in Washington," Abraham told them.

Esther could see Carol falter, allowing panic to rise within her at the realisation that she didn't have a plan of her own. She furrowed her brow at the woman, and then tipped her head to Abraham, allowing herself to observe him for a moment.

"Can I have a word?" Esther asked him, to which he nodded. The two soldiers removed themselves from the group, Esther taking the lead and Abraham following behind her. When they were sure they were away from earshot, Abraham turned to her.

"If this is going to be about saving these guys, you can just stop," Abraham lightly warned her. "I know these people need us, but we can't be dragged down by them."

"I'm not going to Washington," Esther announced to him. She watched as he furrowed his brow, frustration knitting his brow together. He scraped his teeth along his bottom lip.

"What do you mean?" he raised his voice a little, then took a breath when he realised the others could hear him. "Did I just hear you right?"

"I just…" she trailed off, allowing her back to rest against the wall. "It's just…"

"Spit it out."

She closed her eyes as she tried to find the right words. "You said it yourself. You told me to get out of here. You knew… you did, Abraham… you knew this was different because you wouldn't have told me to get out if you didn't mean it."

"I just meant… it was meant as a save yourself from that safe zone," Abraham explained to her.

"We stand by the flag, I get that," Esther whispered, lowering her gaze to the floor. "But I can't shake the feeling that _this_ is going to be the death of us."

"Then come to Washington," Abraham urged her.

"And what happens if that's overrun and base is compromised? Then what?"

Abraham rubbed a hand over his exhausted face. "We just have to see, don't we?"

"And hope that it hasn't reached there yet?" Esther asked him.

"We'll be protected there."

"You can't promise that," Esther lowered her voice. "I was shot. And I'm still in a lot of pain. I don't want to travel all the way to Washington just for it to be the same shit there as it is here."

"Williams—"

"No, Abe," Esther said with a sigh. "I have to ensure their safety. Carol, Sophia and Andre. They're my main priority right now. I have a duty here, just as you have a duty there. You have your family there and they're waiting for you. Don't let me hold you back, and please don't make my decision to stay be harder than it is."

And with that, Esther reluctantly left his side and returned to the group.

**.x.**

Esther crept away from the group as soon as night fall descended upon the city and found a quiet corner in the open plan department store. She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled for the familiar number, her heart pounding against her chest when she came to it. She lifted the phone to her ear and waited, the dreaded dialling tone echoing through her exhausted mind. She felt hot tears fill her eyes as she tried again, resting her forehead against the wall.

The fear within her heart clung so tightly to her that she was struggling to breathe; her worst fears being confirmed as the dialling tone continued.

She turned around, allowing the wall to hold herself up. After a few breathing exercises, she allowed herself to slide down the wall. The cell phone remained clasped in her hand, the hope of it ringing overwhelming her.

She heard someone approach then, the sound of their light footing padding against the wooden floor and looked up to see Daryl.

"Ya okay?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"No," Esther shook her head and lifted her cell phone up. "It's, uh—not good."

"Ya can't get in touch with anyone?"

She shook her head again. "No. My parents… I can't talk to them now."

Daryl bowed his head, unsure of what to say to make it better. "I'm sorry."

Esther shrugged, nonchalantly, even though the quiver to her lip and chin said otherwise. She turned away from him just as the teardrops escaped the confines of her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks, splashing against the white t-shirt.

"Found these for ya when I went lookin' for supplies," Daryl shared to her. He pulled out a small green medical box. "It has gauze, disinfectant, bandages. Pretty much everythin' ya could ever need. I thought ya might need it."

"Thank you, Daryl," she smiled, wiping her tears away with a sniff. She reached for them and offered him a smile as she took the medical pack from him. "I appreciate it."

Daryl cast his gaze downwards and shuffled his feet. "I noticed ya and soldier boy ain't spoken since ya went outside to talk. Ya and lover boy have a falling out?"

"It's not like that," Esther told him with a shrug. "We're just close, but not that close. We… had a disagreement about our next plans."

Daryl chewed on his lip. "Abraham wants to head to Washington, righ'?"

"Yeah," Esther confirmed with a nod.

"An' ya don't?"

Esther shook her head slowly and thoughtfully. She looked towards the sleeping mother, holding her daughter tightly to her. "I saw her reaction when Abe told everyone about us going to Washington and it broke me. This new world is tough for everyone, but I worry about her. And I can't – and I won't – leave her to fight this world alone with two small children who depend on her."

"That's brave of ya."

"Or very stupid," Esther shrugged.

"Doubt anyone would do the same," Daryl told her, and then with a beat, he pushed on. "Are ya… gonna try and get home?"

She shook her head sadly. "I won't be able to. They would've shut down the airports straight away."

Daryl wondered. "What about in Washington? Wouldn't ya be able to get something from there?"

"No, unfortunately. It's every man for himself," Esther commented, her mind wandering. "You should get some sleep. It's been a long day."

"Maybe you should the same," he smiled, before reaching a hand out for her. She placed her hand in his and he helped her up from the floor.

As she moved back towards the group, and heading towards Abraham, he called out to her. Esther turned around at her name.

"Ya know… ya never give up on other people," Daryl began, trying to find the right words. "Ya go above and beyond for all of us. Hell, ya even got shot. Don't give up on _that_," he motioned towards her cell phone. "Don't give up on them."

And with that, he returned to where his brother had set themselves up for the night leaving Esther to ponder his words.

He was right. She couldn't give up hope so quickly; but she knew the evidence was stacked against her, and it only meant that she wasn't able to get hold of them. The outbreak wouldn't have reached home just yet, if at all. She had to think positively about this, her mind had to be rationalised and free of worry.

As she returned to the main group, she wandered over to Abraham who was taking the first watch. Despite them being in a relatively safe department store and on the middle level, Abraham still felt it necessary to keep watch. He would take the first one; Shane would take the next; and, Daryl would take the last.

"Hey," she said, voice low.

Abraham didn't raise his head at her nor make any movement to suggest that he'd heard her. She sat down opposite him on the floor, groaning in discomfort as her movements caused her abdomen to burn in pain.

"You know you've got to take it easy," he warned her, his gaze refusing to meet hers.

"I know," Esther breathed out. "I'm still not used to it."

Abraham hummed in response but didn't utter another word.

Esther broke the silence. "I just want to say that I'm sorry."

A hint of a reaction flashed across his face in the motion of a raised eyebrow. She hoped that he would look in her direction or give her a reassuring wink, but when nothing came, she bit her lip and continued.

"I tried to contact them again," Esther began. "I was able to get through the first time, but it just… the dialling tone. And you know what? That scared me so much. I've always been able to contact home whenever I can or wanted to, but to have that taken from me… it's—"

She wiped the stray tear that had fallen. She steadied herself with a deep breath. "I know I can't get home to them now. I've been robbed of that because of this outbreak. And it's going to take everything from us—"

"—You don't know that," Abraham's attention was captured by her now, and their gazes met.

"You even said, Abe," she said sadly. "It's different. People are killing people. Tearing through them like they're nothing. And they're not themselves; they're just not. We can't come back from this and expect everything to go back to normal. If it's affecting us here, then it's only going to take a while for it to spread across the country, even the world."

Abraham fell into silence, knowing it was the truth. He let it settle within his heart.

"Your family are waiting for you there," Esther continued. "They're safe! And that's everything! I want you to go there and reunite with them; and I have Carol, Sophia and Andre to look after here."

"Bring them with you," Abraham told her. "We can protect them properly there."

Esther was the one to quieten then. Abraham furrowed his brow, shaking his head. He continued. "Why are you so against heading back to base?"

"Because it confirms everything that I know deep down to be true," Esther said with a sigh. "And that terrifies me. What if we head back there and find that it's been destroyed? Or empty? What do we do then?"

"So, you'd rather live without the knowledge of there ever being a cure for this thing?"

"It's not that, it's just—" Esther paused, and met his eye. "I'm scared of losing you."

"You won't lose me," Abraham reassured her, but it wasn't enough.

She shook her head. "We've lost Fisher. Jeffries. Kilner. Wilson. May. Mathers—"

"—Mathers was an asshole."

"But he still died," Esther whispered. "This world still claimed him."

Abraham scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "You won't lose me," he repeated. "I promise."

"You think they'd accept Carol and the children?"

"We'll sure as hell try," Abraham reassured her. "Is that enough?"

"I'll think about it," she whispered, to which he nodded.

"Can't say fairer than that," Abraham winked. "You should get some rest. It's not like you got shot or anything."

Esther chuckled and got herself comfy. "I'm fine. And anyway, it'll be like old times."


	10. 1:9 - How You'll Be Remembered

Part One

..

Nine

_How You'll Be Remembered_

**.x.**

Esther woke up sometime later to the sound of screaming in the distance.

At first she believed it to be the dream she was having; her exhaustion causing her subconscious mind to darken and conjure up tortured images for her to endure. But when she was roused from her sleep by the sound, she noticed a figure by the doorway, the familiar crossbow slung over his shoulder. Daryl was staring out through the glass doors that protected them from the rest of the department store, cautious of any shadow passing them by. Esther stood and closed the gap between them, her cautious footing ensuring she didn't stir anyone from a much-needed sleep. Daryl lifted his gaze towards her then motioned for her to listen for the direction the noise was coming from.

The screams – as Esther concentrated on deciphering where they were coming from – seemed to be coming from all directions.

She turned and observed the sleeping souls within the room, with all of them unaware of the commotion happening around them. She turned back and listened some more, occasionally glancing in Daryl's direction.

"Do you think it's a rouse?"

"Could be," Daryl surmised with a shrug. "I knew this place wouldn't be safe."

Esther observed him for a small moment, taking the darkness and the silence around them as prime opportunity to capture his true reaction. He was unsettled; his shoulders tense and his whole demeanour worried. His crossbow was still slung over his shoulder, but he had one hand grasped onto it ready and poised to spring into action if needed. Daryl turned to her when he felt her watch him, his gaze accusing and guarded.

Esther bit her lip and turned back to the glass fronted door. "What do you think we should do?"

Daryl simply shrugged, repeating her question. "What do ya think we should do?"

She pondered for a moment, her gaze falling on the sleeping people on the floor. "We could go and check together. Keep quiet and in the shadows, find the source of the noise, and determine if it's a threat to life or not."

"What if we're ambushed by the dead?"

"Then we'll raise a signal and fight our way out."

"It ain't that simple," Daryl shook his head. "An' what if it is a rouse and we're walking into the pits of hell?"

"Then we fight for our lives," Esther narrowed her gaze at him when he shook his head once more. "What?"

"Nothin'," Daryl said with a shrug which only seemed to unsettle Esther.

"No, tell me," Esther urged, a hint of venom in her voice. She knew he was probably projecting his worry out onto their plans, but part of her remembered the times she was undermined in the army. The men that surrounded her, outnumbering her in ways she hadn't expected before, and who would roll their eyes at her when she would suggest something was something that, even now, she was unable to just shake off. She had proved them wrong countless times, had saved their lives on many occasions, and had proven to them that she was just as worthy of being there than all of them put together.

"It's just… ya so open to just fighting to protect everyone. Is that how ya wanna be remembered, huh? Dyin' to protect the others?"

Esther was silent as she processed his words and allowed him to continue after he took a breath.

"I've never met someone who was just willin' to do that," Daryl told her. "Ya put yourself in the firing line every single time, why? Does anyone else do that for ya? Hell, ya got shot 'cause ya heard something and no-one, not one person, went with ya."

"Maybe I don't expect it? Maybe because I'm trained to be an independent soldier? We can't be in this line of work depending on other people to protect us from the enemy," Esther told him, her voice raising slightly. She glanced back at the group, noticing that Abraham had stirred awake and was now looking across at them. "When you're out on the firing line and you have people shooting at you from all directions, I can't be hoping someone will shoot back for me while I hide and wait for it all to be over. I have to shoot the enemy while ensuring my squad are safe."

When Daryl frowned, Esther shook her head.

"If I relied on other people _now_, I bet your bottom dollar that I'll be dead when shit hits the fan. I can't rely on other people to protect me, Daryl."

"But this world is different now," Daryl told her. "Ya can't always be the one with the plan of action. Ya can't always be the one jumping in front of a bullet or taking the beating."

"What is this about?" Esther asked him, confused. "You asked me about what we should do, and now this?"

"Have ya had anyone care about ya safety before?!"

Screaming tore through their conversation, and both fell into silence. Abraham approached them then, and Esther stepped away from Daryl. She avoided his worried gaze on her and turned to Abraham. The older man looked between them but neither one of them spoke another word.

Abraham broke the silence, feeling the heat from whatever was between them. He knew it was to be a conversation for another time, but this was definitely not the right time. Another scream echoed around them.

"How long has that been happening?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Not long," Daryl said. "Maybe ten minutes?"

Abraham nodded, placing his hands on his hips and thinking. "Has it moved or remained in the same place?"

"Different places," Daryl explained further. "There's more than one scream. The dead don't scream."

"Shit," Abraham muttered, throwing a look back at the children sleeping with their families. "Okay… we're going to have to check it out," he turned to Daryl. "Wake Merle up, we'll need him."

As Daryl left their side to wake his brother up, Abraham turned to Esther. "I heard your conversation; and he's right. I shouldn't have let you go off on your own back there."

"I'm not a child," Esther hit back.

"You got shot, Esther," Abraham raised his voice slightly, and it was enough for Esther to back down. "You're barely standing up straight. Your breathing is ragged, and I can bet all the money in the world that you're in pain right this second. I need you to stay here with everyone, okay? And when I tell you to go, _go._ I'll have cleared a path for you, and you must take them to safety. I'll radio to you where, okay?"

Esther shook her head. "No, Abe. Don't do this."

"I need you safe, okay?"

Daryl and Merle approached them then, and Esther simply shook her head in disapproval and moved back to the group, passing by the two approaching men without another word. Daryl and Merle watched as she walked away from them, with the younger Dixon brother watching her for a moment longer.

"Someone ain't happy," Merle hollered at the two men.

"She'll be okay," Abraham told them, although his words fell flat. Daryl glanced back at the soldier and watched as she woke the group up one by one, her whole demeanour switched to a reassuring one. Abraham whistled to capture her attention, and when it did and she lifted her gaze to him, she simply offered a nod that spoke a thousand words. Her gaze moved to the others, lingering on Daryl for a second longer.

**.x.**

The three men found themselves walking down the stairs kept hidden from the public; a passageway to get to the other floors without the commotion of public footfall. Abraham was leading the way, cautious of his heavy boots making contact with the concrete steps; Merle took the middle, his rifle poised and ready in his hands; and Daryl took the rear, ensuring that no-one was coming out of the doors on each floor. As darkness surrounding them, they relied heavily on the light coming through the windows, the only beacon of light within the darkened and closed off area.

The screaming grew louder, and their movements grew more hesitant and cautious. Abraham motioned for them to come to a stop, and their movements ceased. They listened as the screams were more constant, urgent and petrified; the urge to attempt a rescue being overwhelming, but hesitation and worry pulling them back down to reality.

Abraham moved towards the doors leading to the floor. He came to a halt, his gaze narrowing as he raised his hand in the air to stop the Dixon brothers from continuing. He tipped his head to the side, motioning for them to come to his side, and the sighs that escaped from both of them confirmed his fears. Blood marked the white walls, bloody handprints smearing across the wall. Daryl inspected the area around them, spotting droplets of blood upon the floor leading onto the level.

Abraham signalled with his hand for them to keep quiet as he moved towards the door. He pushed open the door slowly, aware of the slight creak that filled the air around them. He motioned for the other two to enter as he took the rear; closing the door slowly to prevent the creaking to sound louder than he'd wanted it to. Once he'd allowed the door to close without a sound, he turned back to the two men who were staring in shock at the scene before them; his hearing returning to him as he was able to focus back onto the room.

The dead swarmed the area; ambling and stumbling around the floor. Sleeping bags were lined up throughout the large open space, a sign of other people inhabiting the space just like they had. They watched from the shadows as a few people tried to hide from the dead; seeking comfort and safety in the shadows just like they were. Abraham scanned the surrounding area, noticing a young child a stone's throw away from him, hiding behind the counter of the store. He lifted his finger to his mouth and watched as the child nodded at him, understanding his instruction.

"I count three living…" Daryl whispered. "Ya think they're part of the same group?"

"Could be," Abraham replied. "We dispatch the dead, okay?"

The two Dixon brother's nodded and slipped from the shadows, closing in on their targets. They counted several dead, their bodies scattered across the floor, with some still in the sleeping bags. Abraham counted eight walkers, with all of them closing in on the three living who were trying with all their might to escape the grasps from the dead. His gaze fell on the hidden child staying silent under his guidance and followed behind the brother's.

Daryl dispatched an arrow into the head of one of the dead; as Merle shot another right between the eyes. Abraham whacked one in the head before shooting them in between the eyes. They worked in sync until all of the walkers were taken care of, and the screaming ceased. When silence filled the void where the screaming had taken place, Abraham understood that it should have been golden. Except, he had a soldier's instinct, and the silence didn't bode well with him. He motioned to the other men to hold their position as he trained his hearing.

Movement caught his attention, and as his mind rationalised three living people that they had counted, he was sure he could hear a fourth.

He was sure Daryl hadn't miscounted the living people he had seen. He knew Daryl wouldn't have made that mistake.

He motioned to Daryl and lifted four fingers and watched as Daryl furrowed his brow as he recounted those that he saw. Daryl moved his position and lifted his gaze to those that he could see; the young girl under the counter, the woman in the shadows with a man whose eyes seemed to be pleading with him. He narrowed his gaze at that, and then he saw the glint of a blade pointed to her abdomen and he felt his heart sink. And just like a magpie transfixed with shiny objects, he was aware of the eyes watching his every move. He lifted his gaze to Abraham who had seen them too.

And then as the realisation dawned on them all, the reaction of the little girl and the woman allowed him to piece together the scene. The woman and the little girl had been part of the group who had been brutally murdered by those who ambushed them, but he knew they had fought back as much as they could. The men didn't know about the girl, it seemed.

Abraham released a sigh, as he knew they were outnumbered. Their eyes seemed to glow like owls in the night, and the feeling of being watched never left him. And so, he did the one thing he knew to do, and that was to fight for his life.

**.x.**

"The screaming has stopped," Shane commented as he sat down beside Esther who had taken refuge on the floor. He watched as she tapped her fingers against her knee, an anxious habit of not being in control. "They're going to be okay; I promise."

"Don't do that," Esther whispered. "Don't promise. Never promise."

Shane fell into silence and nodded. He pondered his thoughts for a while, his gaze occasionally falling onto Esther as she moved her gaze onto the door the three men disappeared through.

"I want to apologise," Shane spoke, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry for shooting you. I promised my friend that I would go to the ends of the earth to protect Lori and Carl, and I thought you were one of them."

Esther lifted her gaze to him and let out a small laugh. "You were protecting the people you care about. I would've done the same."

Shane felt relief wash over him. "I feel like I'm failing them, failing Rick. I don't know what to do."

"What are you supposed to do in a world like this?" Esther reassured him. "No one knows what the hell they're doing but we're all trying. And sometimes that's the only thing we can do."

"You're right," Shane nodded with a sigh. "It doesn't make any decision easier, does it?"

"Every decision we make has consequences for others," Esther said softly. "What is the best thing ever for one person is misery for someone else. Life is always going to be like that. Don't take it too hard. Keep doing your best, and that's all that matters."

Shane knew she was right, but it didn't make it any easier to comprehend. He could only imagine what she had seen in her life to come to that realisation at such a young age.

Shane ran a hand over his head, the soft bristles of his short hair scratching at his palm. "How long have you been a soldier?"

"Too long," Esther whispered with a smile, avoiding his question as best as she could. Shane simply nodded and let the silence to fill the room once more. Esther watched as Carl and Sophia played together, the horror of the world around them forgotten for just a moment.

"Have you ever thought about having children?" Esther asked, her gaze lifting to Shane's.

Shane offered a smile, his own gaze moving towards the two children playing happily then towards the woman sat beside them talking with Carol. She never felt the burn of his gaze on her, and he was grateful for that. "Yeah. It became a constant thought, and then an urgent want. But—sometimes the one you want that with already has it with someone else."

Esther followed his gaze and then lowered it to her tapping fingers that had stilled. "It's brave of you for promising your friend that you would protect them at all costs."

"Or incredibly dumb."

"Or that," Esther smirked. "You care about them and it shows. Does she know?"

Shane shook his head. "Nah. And she ain't ever going to know either."

Esther bit her lip and allowed her mind to wander.

"I left him," Shane began after a moment. "I was going to tell them that he'd died so I didn't feel as guilty as I do. If they believed he was dead then that would be better than this feeling that I have."

"Someone told me once that guilt is like pouring gasoline onto yourself," Esther explained, recalling those quiet moments in the war zone. "The fumes are intoxicating and disorientating, and our thoughts are those fumes. And then those thoughts are like holding a flame so close, knowing that the more you think about it, allowing those thoughts to just completely tackle you. And before you know it, you're set ablaze in this guilt feeling that on another day wouldn't matter as much. But in that moment, it's everything. And it burns and burns until you rationalise your thoughts and the heat ebbs away and the fire is put out."

"Does the heat really go away?"

"You're asking the wrong person," Esther offered a small smile, though there was no warmth in it.

"Have you?" Shane asked then, causing Esther to furrow her brow at him. He continued. "Ever thought about having children?"

Shane watched as her eyes watered slightly before she shook her head. He had been in the police force for a long time and he knew when someone was lying; it had always been his sixth sense to see through the bullshit that people told him or showed him in body language. Before he could even utter another word, the red light on the radio lit up and static came through on the other end.

They listened for a few seconds, Esther having stood up from her position and grabbed her weapon in response, instinct taking over.

A scuffle, a fight, a struggle.

The whole floor fell into a silence; the children no longer played, the adults no longer chatted. Their safety bubble – one that they had only just made for them all – was no longer safe, and Esther knew the department store had been compromised. She just hoped the three men hadn't been compromised.

"I trust you," Esther said as Shane stood to his full height. "I need you to round up everyone and keep them safe."

"What are you doing?"

"They need help," Esther whispered; she felt it in her heart that something wasn't quite right. It was a feeling that had served her well in her career as a soldier, and it never let her down. "You always want to do the right thing, Shane, and I need you to protect the group for me."

"No!" Shane refuted. "You're not going out there alone!"

"If both of us go, we leave the group with no-one to protect them. At least with you here, I know they have a good chance. I trust you," Esther repeated, her eyes urgent. "I need you to promise me that you will keep them safe until we return. And I need you to promise me that you'll keep fighting if we don't."

"Esther, please…" Carol whispered then, approaching them both. Esther took a moment to compose herself before she moved her gaze to Carol. The older woman stared tearfully at her.

"This isn't a goodbye, okay?" Esther whispered, voice breaking. "I need to protect you, okay?"

And the group knew what that entailed. They'd seen it out on the streets; they'd seen their neighbours trying to fight for their lives against the dead. It never made it easier though, and they didn't realise that years down the line, where the world was more quiet than ever, where the people around them now would no longer be by their side through separation or through death, that it would be just as important.

"I will be back," Esther told them. "I promise."

A promise was never meant to be broken. And sometimes they had to put their faith into believing that it was bound by invisible thread.


	11. 1:10 - Flowers

Part One

..

Ten

_Flowers_

**.x.**

There had been parts of Esther's life where she had often felt as though she was spiralling out of control.

The army, in a sense, had saved her from a path that would be a troubling one. It had opened up the world for her, and she had truly found herself. Her entire training had pushed her to her very limit, breaking barriers that she never imagined to be there. She had failed time and time again, but her perseverance and determination had been admired by Abraham. When she was told no, she found a way to turn that into a yes. When her body failed from exhaustion and her muscles screamed at her to stop, to rest, she kept going knowing that stopping meant giving up. She was taught from a young age to fight for what she believed in and for those whose voice was being silenced.

She had fought tooth and nail to prove herself worthy. There were moments in her life when she would think back to the decisions that she had made that had gotten her into trouble, and she wondered where she would be in life if she had turned her back on the army. She often wouldn't allow herself to think that far, knowing it would only cause her to begin to spiral again.

The emergency lights flickered around her, engulfing her in an orangey-red hue which signalled danger, confirming to the fear that clung aggressively to her heart. She could hear the pounding against her ears and her own ragged breathing around her as it bounced off the walls. She had tried to pull herself together, but her breathing was more from her injuries than fear itself. She knew that even in the face of the outbreak and the uncertainty of their future, she still needed to protect those around her. She thought of Abraham, of Daryl, of Merle, all of them somewhere in the building, and her heart faltered. She thought of the group she had left behind in order to find the others, and her heart dropped. She had spent most of her career adhering to Abraham and his orders and now it was up to her. She was in control and, as much as she tried to calm her breathing and analyse the situation, she felt herself begin to falter. She felt that something was wrong deep down in her stomach.

As she descended down the staircase, the gun felt light in her hand and she knew she had to focus on the severity of the situation.

She followed her instincts despite the building growing silent the longer Abraham, Merle and Daryl were gone for, which, to Esther, didn't bode well for her. There was no commotion that could be heard to signify to her that they were still alive. The screaming had stopped and the entire department building had fallen into silence which only caused her to grow more unsettled. Had they perished? Had they walked into a trap and had paid the ultimate price? She couldn't – wouldn't – allow her mind to think about that at that moment, all she was focusing on was reuniting with Abraham, her own gaze meeting Abraham's and knowing he was alive and kicking.

Her mind wandered to Daryl then, but she stopped herself. His voice penetrated her deep thoughts, his words processing in her mind. Now – she ordered herself – was not the time.

She reached the double doors leading to the floor that they had heard the screaming coming from not even half an hour before, and in the lull of the emergency light, she was able to see the bloody handprints staining the door and the wall. As her hand reached for the door, a shuffle sounded behind her.

Esther gripped her gun tighter in her hand and painfully swung her body towards the sound. What met her, however, was not what she expected.

"Help me," a voice, low and pained, filled the silence around her. Esther aimed the gun at the voice, her eyes searching through the flickering lights. It proved harder to focus on where the voice had come from as each time she thought she spotted something in the red hue, her surroundings would be plunged into darkness. The meek voice had come from a man slumped against the wall, shielded by boxes stacked up against the wall, the shadows protecting him from being seen.

Esther moved towards him, dropping towards his side. "Are you okay?"

She furrowed her brow when he shook his head.

"My family… they—" he stuttered. "They ambushed us… they had knives and were just… stabbing the sleeping bags… and—the girl—"

"Your daughter?" Esther questioned, searching the man's gaze. The man narrowed his gaze at her, pained, and nodded his head. "I'm going to help you up, okay?"

The man nodded again and allowed Esther to shoulder most of his weight as she eased him to his feet. She helped him walk towards the doors, and she slowly pushed one open with her shoulder. The floor was quiet which only seemed to cause the blood to pound furiously in her ears. She trudged further into the spacious level, her gaze falling on the crouched figure of Abraham.

She eased the man down on the ground and ordered him to stay there. As she closed the gap between herself and Abraham, she made herself aware of the layout of the surrounding area. In the centre was a make-shift camp site with sleeping bags that held the deceased, a story that was confirmed by the man in the corridor. The lift doors were open but was shielded by boxes to prevent wandering children.

"I told you to stay where you were," Abraham told her as she crouched beside him.

"We're not starting this again," Esther countered. Abraham stared at her for a moment longer, before turning his attention to the man who had entered with Esther.

Abraham asked. "Who's that guy?"

"His daughter is in here," Esther said, simply filling in the gaps.

Abraham furrowed his brow then and eyed the man who had made his way over to the hiding spot of the young girl. "He can't be. That guy there—" he pointed towards the man with the woman who were both trying to hold in the sobs that wracked through their bodies. "—is the girl's father."

Esther turned to the man who had been in the corridor then and watched as he had closed the gap between him and the young girl.

"I counted four," Abraham whispered, motioning towards Daryl who had locked eyes with Esther. "I knew there was another one."

"What do you mean?" Esther asked, looking towards Abraham.

Abraham wiped his brow. "They attacked the group. I think he's one of them."

There was a yelp in the distance, as Esther felt the heat of anxiety rise to her neck and face. The man had yanked the young girl out of her hiding spot and pulled her close to him. Esther watched as the young girl searched the area frantically with her eyes, tears streaming down her face wanting nothing more than to see her parents. Esther's heart sank.

"Well, that was easier than I'd originally planned," he said, the pained voice that Esther had heard before having dissipated. "Thanks to soldier girl."

Esther felt the ground beneath her begin to shudder as fear grasped at her. She had put the girl in danger without her knowing it. She sensed movement around her, and quickly glanced as the attackers aimed their weapons at them all. As her heartbeat furiously against her chest, she focused on the girl.

"Shit," Esther cursed. "He…"

"It's too late now," Abraham told her. "We play his game. We retrieve the girl as safely as possible. We can't have her mother and father watch her die."

Esther stared at Abraham with a furrowed brow. She tried to ease the anxiety that grasped at her heart, but she felt sick to her stomach.

"We've got to do something," Esther seethed, more so at herself.

When Abraham shook his head, she felt the world shift around her.

"I'm not letting her die because of my mistake," Esther bit at him. Then, she fell silent as her mind wandered and tried to unravel her thoughts. She scanned the area; she knew she couldn't leave the area without putting the girl in danger, and she knew she couldn't live with that. Her gaze fell on the open elevator shaft. She turned to Abraham after a moment, a soft, reassuring smile on her face. "You head to Washington, okay? Whatever happens here… you find your family. And you tell my parents, if you can, that I love them. That I didn't leave this place because I wanted to, but because I was saving someone. Will you do that for me?"

"No…" Abraham whispered harshly. "Esther… Corporal Williams—"

The penny had dropped, but it was too late. He had seen the gun be pulled out of the man's pocket and placed on the side of the girl's head.

Esther turned to Abraham. "Do you give me the order, Sir?"

"No. No, I don't," Abraham retorted harshly.

"I heard a yes," Esther told him, her eyes searching his. "You get these people to safety. No one gets left behind, do you hear me?"

As Abraham scrambled to grab Esther, she slipped out of his grasp and stepped out from behind their hiding spot. Her legs were heavy as she moved out of the shadows, as her gaze focused in on the girl. Esther raised her hands in the air.

The man offered her a sickening smirk.

"Let her go," Esther said to him, her voice soft. "She's innocent in all of this."

The man chuckled harshly and shook his head, pulling the girl closer to him. "We could've been in and out so quickly. If it wasn't for this one screaming the whole place down and alerting everyone and their mother."

"She's young," Esther defended the small girl. "She was scared. You made her feel scared."

The man laughed manically. "I was checking to see if anyone was coming and I saw you all. I thought, I could easily kill you all from the shadows, but that wouldn't be much fun, right? And then you were there, and I thought, bingo."

"What is it that you want? Supplies? We have them," Esther said, shrugging. "We know it's a crazy world out there right now. We can give you some supplies, enough for you and your group."

The man cocked his head. "It ain't that simple."

"No?"

The man shook his head. "I know there's more of you somewhere."

Esther felt her mouth dry. She felt her nails digging into her palm as she tried to figure out what her next move would be. His intention now was to kill them all and find the remaining members of their group and dispose of them. They wouldn't be able to protect themselves; Esther knew that. She had to do something.

The man continued, narrowing his eyes. "There's women and children with you, right? We watched you all enter this place. We watched you find new clothes. That dress sure looked nice."

Esther thought back to when her and Carol had tried on clothes and her stomach dropped. All this time, they hadn't been aware of the eyes on them.

"Flowers," Esther simply said, her voice sounding strong despite the quiver of anxiety. No one understood it but Abraham did. She didn't need to look at him to know that his face had fallen, and his heart had sunk. "_Flowers_—"

The man furrowed his brow, confused. "What does that mean?"

Esther ignored him, her gaze falling on the open elevator shaft then back towards the young girl. She knelt down so that her eye level was the same as the young girls. "I'm going to need you to close your eyes for me, darling. Can you close your eyes and keep taking deep breaths for me? Whatever you do… with the commotion and sounds around you, keep them closed until your mom takes you in her arms, okay?"

The girl nodded, her eyes that had been so wide closed. Esther heard the man's gun clock, and with a deep breath, she raced towards him. He raised his gun at her, but she was too quick for him, and she pushed him back, with them both stumbling towards the open elevator shaft.

She was aware of the sounds of Abraham and Daryl calling after her, before the sound of a fight ensued behind her, but she was falling, her arms still wrapped around the man's abdomen as she took him with her.

And then… there was nothing.

The pain in her body had eased, any fears or worries she had ebbed away and everything that she had been was fleeting.

**.x.**

A guttural shudder exhaled from the open shaft. Once the rest of the men had been dispatched of, and the parents had been reunited with their daughter who had kept her promise to Esther of keeping her eyes closed, Daryl, Merle and Abraham had rushed towards the elevator. The sight below them caused their stomachs to turn, and the anger to rise within Abraham as he knew he should've stopped her.

The girl had been in immediate danger and Esther Williams had given her life to protect her. She had done what Abraham couldn't bring himself to do.

The man had most of his bones broken on impact, his limbs disjointed, and skull fractured. He had protected Esther from most of the fall, but as Abraham's gaze fell on her body – _still, unmoving _– he felt as though his whole world was crumbling down around him. He felt nausea wash over him, and he fought the urge to empty the contents of his stomach, but it seemed much more overpowering than he had originally thought, and he found himself vomiting at the sight of her crumpled on the top of the elevator shaft.

Her hair was covering her face, but he had seen the blood that was seeping from her wounds. The man was on his back, his unseeing eyes staring up at them, but she had landed on her stomach, with one arm over the man's abdomen.

"No! No! NO!" Abraham pounded at the ground, startling those around him. Daryl stared at him, his own words and thoughts lost as he tried to comprehend what had happened. His gaze fell on Merle for a fleeting moment, who was simply staring at the man who was pounding his fists against the floor until his knuckles were bloody.

"She's gone," Merle called out to him, nonchalantly. "No amount of hollering is gonna bring her back."

"You fucking what?!" Within seconds, Abraham had closed the gap between him and Merle, noses touching and anger rising.

Daryl broke them apart, pulling his brother away from the situation. "Will ya keep ya fuckin' mouth shut?!"

"What's got into you, little brother?" Merle furrowed his brow. "She sacrificed herself, it was honourable. But all this shit with us moping about ain't helping us."

"Will ya just leave it?" Daryl warned him, his eyes full of venom which seemed to be enough to quieten his brother.

A groan echoed from the elevator shaft which caused them all to rush over. The man was still, his unseeing eyes staring up at them. But Esther was moving, and Abraham's heart sank deeper than ever before, his eyes straining. She had slipped her arm from across the man's body and was trying with all the strength in her body to sit up.

"Esther?!" Abraham called out but she never turned to him. They kept their gaze on her as she sat up, all speechless as they feared the worst.

"I'll go check." Daryl turned to Abraham. "They need ya up there, okay?"

"No, brother," Merle retorted. "I ain't having ya go down there!"

"We need to know if she's okay," Daryl told him, then he looked towards Abraham, leaning his crossbow against the wall. He pulled out his hunting knife. "If she's one of them, I'll take her out."

Abraham reluctantly nodded, ignoring the hollering from Merle. Daryl had made his mind up, and Abraham had understood in those few seconds, just how alike Daryl and Esther were. They both had people who cared so much about them and yet they would do anything for them to not face the reality of the world. Esther had always wanted to protect those around her, and often took the full brunt of her decision. And Daryl would rather shoulder the burden than have someone else have to.

Daryl began the long climb down to the top of the elevator, where he began to hear the stomach-dropping groans escape from the man. The throaty moans were thick in his ear as he climbed further down, his footing careful as he came to the surface. As his feet came to stand on the top, a shriek sounded around him, metal scraping against metal, and he understood quickly that the extra weight upon the surface of the elevator didn't bode well for him.

His eyes met hers and he knew, in that moment, that all hope was lost as the elevator began to plummet to the ground.

**.x.**

**End of Part One**

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck around for this story and who has read, reviewed and favourited! It means so much! Part Two is on its way to you soon!


	12. 2:0 - And The Flowers Were Dying

Part Two

..

Prologue

_And The Flowers Were Dying_

**.x.**

Daryl Dixon was not going to die that day, he promised himself.

He had always been positive about life despite the views of his family and small group of friends being fairly negative. He had to remain upbeat because he didn't want to be miserable for the rest of his life, to have his heart darken with hatred and disapproval of the hand he was given. His life had to be lived by him and he couldn't – wouldn't – allow himself to plague himself with pessimistic thoughts. And even in that moment, when the screech of the elevator pierced the barriers of his fear, he knew he had to remain positive. If he was going to die today, then he knew he'd had a good life and had taken as many chances that came his way as he could.

As his eyes met hers, and she returned his stare like she had done many times before, he knew that he had to do something. Her eyes were not like the man who laid beside her, his bones broken, and whose stare was unseeing and foggy. He spoke to her quickly, hearing the hollering of his brother above him, and he could tell she was unable to hear him, the fall having knocked her hearing out of sync.

He reached for her hand as the elevator began its long descent down to the bottom, smoke rising as it hurtled further and further down. She looked at it quickly as she held on, and knew he wasn't accepting their fate like she was so willing to and grabbed at it quickly. The smoke clouded around them, encapsulating them into a breathless confinement. Daryl pulled her close and raced to the sides where the metal pipes that ran the length of the entire shaft were and grabbed at them, just before the elevator crashed at the bottom, sending the effects of the explosion to surround them.

Daryl held onto the hot metal pipes, the calloused skin on his palms burning under the heat. He clung onto Esther as much as she clung onto him, her face pulled close into his chest and his face buried in her hair to prevent the debris and dust to blind them and falter their senses. She held onto the pipes too, but her grip was weak, and he knew she was more injured than what he could see. He knew he just needed to hold onto her a little longer before they could take hold of the situation and attempt to climb back up. He could see the light of the open lift door above them, his heart sinking as he realised just how far they had been taken down.

"It's okay," he whispered to Esther, not knowing if she was able to hear him now or not. He held her tighter to his chest, pulling her up when he felt her slip out of his hold. "I got ya."

It was a few minutes later when Daryl knew it was best to start climbing. He angled Esther closer to the wall and prepared himself for the climb back up. He secured Esther's hands on the wall, ensuring she had a tight grip on the metal pipes, before taking a small step down and used his left shoulder to heave her upwards. He guided her with his left hand, all the while climbing up behind her.

Every little step was calculated to ensure they made it up carefully and safely. As Daryl glanced up to see how far they had gotten, he was amazed to see the light just two more reaches away. He heaved her up with his shoulder once more before he held onto her to slow down, climbing up to her side where he pulled himself up onto the floor they had all been on. He turned around and reached his hand out for Esther to take, and feeling her hand slide into his, he pulled her up, grabbing the loop of her trousers and hauling the rest of her body up.

He glanced around at his surroundings, noticing at the familiar form of his brother or the stern, authoritative stance of Abraham had all but disappeared. He furrowed his brow when he noticed his crossbow had been taken. Merle, he surmised. If his brother truly believed him to be dead, he would've taken the crossbow as a way to protect himself as they fought their way out of the city, and to remember his brother by. Daryl felt doubt wash over him as he understood the lack of his weapon meant it would be harder for them to leave the building.

Daryl sighed, running a hand through his dust covered hair, and turned his gaze to Esther who had slid down the length of the wall and was sat on the ground. He could see the paleness to her face, the multiple marks on her face, the blood that seeped from the wounds to her hands, and the staining of blood coming through her uniform from the bullet wound on her abdomen.

"Hey," he called over, narrowing his gaze at her when she lifted her gaze to him. "Ya bleeding again."

She nonchalantly glanced down at her abdomen. "I can't feel it," she mumbled with a shrug.

Daryl pondered what their next move was; he knew they needed to find the others, make sure they didn't leave without them, but Daryl knew that was likely. If both men believed them to be dead, there was no way they were going to stick around any longer than they had to. He closed the gap between them and knelt down beside her.

His eyes searched hers. "Can ya walk?"

She licked her dry lips and blinked a few times. "Yep. I think, anyway."

Daryl nodded and reached out a hand. She slipped hers into his and he guided her to her full height. "If ya need help, tell me, yeah?"

They found their way back to the level they had been on for the last few days, but with Daryl's hope dwindling with each step closer to the floor at the silence that pierced his mind, he knew they had moved on. How long had it been since he went after her? How long had it been since Esther had taken the man out? He couldn't be sure, but it must have been a substantial amount of time to get the others out of the department store and out into the city.

He opened the doors and scoped the area quickly, his eyes falling on the empty sleeping bags. Not a soul could be seen, and his brother was nowhere to be found.

"Merle?!" he called out, however nothing but silence pounded at his ears. "Shit…"

"They've gone, haven't they?"

He knew he couldn't lie to her. There was no point, she would know as soon as his eyes met hers that he was keeping the truth from her. He gave her a nod and he watched her falter.

"They can't have gotten that far—" she trailed off, rubbing at her marked face. She winced in response. "It's not been long… I don't think…"

Daryl gave her a nod. "Stay behind me, but stay close, okay?"

Esther nodded, knowing she was in no fit shape to defend and protect them from whatever danger lurked in the shadows. She pulled her gun from its holster around her waist and handed it to him. He took it without another word, knowing it was her way of ensuring they would be safe with an extra weapon. She knelt down with a grunt and pulled out the knife she kept sheathed in her boot. She handed it to him with a pained sigh.

"Thank you for coming after me," Esther whispered. "You're a good person, Daryl."

Daryl refused to meet her gaze, unsure of what to do with the compliment he had just received. He'd always been on the tail end of abuse, being at the centre of a joke, and here a woman who he had only known for a few days was complimenting him. She had seen his worth, had seen the good heart he protected from unworthy people. With a nod, he led them out of the department store and out onto the street below. She kept close behind him as much as she could, and he put down any stragglers that found their way to them. When they reached a road, full of abandoned vehicles, they noticed helicopters fly above them. Esther and Daryl could only watch as they headed towards the city that they had been in less than ten minutes before. Daryl watched with curiosity whereas Esther watched with sorrow as she knew the meaning behind their reason for being there.

"Flowers," she whispered mostly to herself, as if in her mind she was accepting the order given. Daryl turned to her with a furrowed brow. "We've got to get out of here, Daryl. They're napalming the city. It's over. Atlanta's been compromised."


	13. 2:1 - Eyes to the Sky

Part Two

..

One

_Eyes to the Sky_

**.x.**

The world had burned around them, and they had simply watched as the city with its buildings were all engulfed in flames as the army dropped napalm bombs over the entire city. Esther had watched in silence as the helicopters dropped them in an attempt to rid this new world of the dangers that now lurked on the surface, hoping that it would eradicate the damage that it had already caused. Daryl had watched in mere confusion, all words having disappeared along with the hope he still believed he had.

As they reluctantly left the city, the fire pushing them further and further away, they had left their hope behind, too. The days were long as they trudged for hours in the blazing heat, from the sun beating down from above them and the fire that was spreading at a rapid speed around them. Esther kept note of the sky turning a dusty orange hue due to the burning city behind them.

For Daryl and Esther, life had been an upheaval for the most part. The towns surrounding the major city of Atlanta had all but perished in the fires too; with the traditional and historical buildings as well as the homes that once belonged to good, hard working people had all turned into nothing but ash, despite the fires having calmed and died out weeks ago. What was once a thriving state, Atlanta was now tarnished and burned to the ground. Everything it had once been was no more.

When they had believed that their luck was fading, they had found a sliver of light in the darkness that surrounded them when they stumbled upon a small group of people; two women and a young child. Tara and Lilly were sisters who had ventured out one day to grab a few supplies with Lilly's daughter in tow, when they found Daryl and Esther looting the pharmacy. It had been a few days since they had heard the explosion from the city, saw the smoke billowing into the sky, and they had understood the severity of the situation.

Lilly had acknowledged Esther's state and had seen how weak she was, the injuries to her body being significant. The sisters made the executive decision to bring them back to the apartment and check them both over; their state being enough to shock them into wondering just what had happened and what they had endured.

Weeks had passed by, and Esther was mostly patched up. The gunshot wound was healed thanks to Lilly and her magic; she had cleaned the wound and kept a close eye on whether any infection was present. As Esther was recovering from the fall, something that Daryl had only given Lilly and Tara snippets of, she still felt weakness in her elbow and wrist from where she had landed on.

The small group of people began to rely on a routine they found worked for them. And that morning was just the same. Tara and Daryl ventured out on a supply run, whilst Esther, Lilly and Meghan remained in the apartment. The majority of the morning was spent outside, with Daryl and Tara using the quietness of the morning to gather as many supplies as they could before they slipped out of town and back at the apartment. Lilly would check over Esther, ensuring the woman was taking her pain medication for her injured arm, and checked over the gunshot wound to ensure it was healing properly. Lilly would then read with Meghan, whilst Esther would listen from the armchair, her gaze focusing on the streets below.

Lilly knew she was waiting for Daryl to return. Ever since they had arrived in their lives, she saw how much Esther depended on the hunter; her condition causing her to feel vulnerable and weak. Though her physical wounds were healed, Lilly understood that there was more than met the eye with Esther.

She was afraid.

She saw the fear in the woman's eyes every time Daryl left the apartment to go on a supply run with Tara or when he went hunting for food in the woods behind the apartment block. She understood the wariness that would radiate from the soldier; she had it as well every time her little sister would go out. But this relationship was different in every way. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something else that neither one of them mentioned. She could only assume that it had been what they had seen before they had found them that day.

When Daryl and Tara would return, Lilly would the former's eyes fall on Esther immediately. She would catch his gaze, understanding that there was no ill intent beneath their stare, just the understanding that they both cared about the other. Lilly would then go and organise and sort through the supplies with her sister as Meghan continued to read her book.

Daryl would remain back and sit on the couch beside Esther.

"How was everything when we were out?" Daryl asked, chewing the skin around his thumb.

Esther shrugged. "It was fine. How was everything out there?"

"Some walkers, nothing to worry 'bout," Daryl informed her with a shrug that matched hers. "I was wonderin'… if ya wanted to come out with me early tomorrow. Get ya back on ya feet properly."

Esther fell quiet, and she was so sure of Daryl being able to hear the hammering of her anxious heart. Daryl furrowed his brow at her response.

"Was just thinkin' it might do ya some good, ya know," Daryl told her. "Get ya out of this apartment, change of scenery."

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't think I want to."

He continued to stare at her for a moment longer, before he was interrupted by Lilly who opened the door to the kitchen. He flicked his gaze onto the woman who tipped her head, motioning for him to join her. He stood from his seat and moved towards the woman.

As Lilly led him into the kitchen and allowing the kitchen door to close behind them, Lilly could sense Daryl's worry. It was tangible, real. He cared about Esther, and she could see it as clear as day. Once they were out of Esther's earshot, Lilly sighed.

"Her wounds are all healed but I think there's something more," Lilly begun, aware of her sister turning her attention onto her conversation. "I hear her in the night. I hear her whimpering, talking, crying in her sleep, and then gasping for breath. She paces the length of the room, over and over. The walls are thin, it helped when Meghan was a baby."

"I've heard her, too," Daryl admitted. "But… she ain't talkin' to me about it so I don't bring it up with her. But I get what ya talkin' about."

"What happened back there?" Lilly asked, her brow furrowing. "Has she always been like this, or—"

Daryl rubbed the back of his neck

"We got into a bit of trouble in the city, and… there was a life or death situation, and she did the heroic thing and saved a little girl from being killed in front of her parents. She… tackled the guy and she fell down an elevator shaft…"

"Shit," Tara whispered, eyes widening in shock.

"She's scared, and I get that," Daryl told them. "But… I can't get through to her. I try and she just… she ain't herself anymore. The Esther I knew back then… for that short time… ain't the Esther you know."

"She might just need some more time," Lilly told him. "Maybe just to, I don't know… just to sort through whatever she's dealing with."

Daryl nodded, hoping that Lilly was right, and Esther just needed some time to figure out her emotions and cope with whatever was going on inside her. It had been a month since they had stumbled out of the department store with only each other to rely on; a whole month without seeing any sign of the group, as if they had simply disappeared into thin air. No sign of them had caused their minds to cloud with fear

He just hoped that whatever she was fighting against, she would know that she wasn't fighting it alone.

He wouldn't allow her to.

**.x. **

_The sickening grin…_

_The hold on the innocent girl…_

_Her fearful eyes…_

_The heavy weight on her shoulders as she watched the little girl fight against the man who held a gun to her head was overpowering. In a weird way, Esther found herself imagining the young girl to be her sister; as if she had simply walked out of a memory and was planted in the department store in the middle of Atlanta. Long braided plaits, golden hair that reminded her so much of a halo circling around her, her soft brown eyes, and pale skin that seemed more translucent than she remembered. The face of the girl blurred as she was replaced by the face of her sister, and Esther tried desperately to shake the vision from her mind._

_As her eyes met those of her sister, she felt her heart sink. Her fingertips became numb as her surroundings pulled and shifted._

_The department store which she knew she had been in had now changed to the bottom floor flat in London that she had been to hundreds of times before. Her sister, still young, was now covered from head to toe in blood that soaked and seeped through her clothing. More wounds opened up the longer Esther stared at her, and it was only when she broke her gaze from her sister did it stop._

_She closed her eyes, faltering at the thought of her sister being so defenceless. When she turned back and reopened her eyes, her whole body jolted in shock as she came nose to nose with her sister, an adult now._

_"You didn't save me," Amber seethed. "You weren't there to stop him. You didn't stop him. You left me there to die. All on my own…"_

_"If I had been there… I would've done everything in my power… you know I would've," Esther felt the tears seep from her eyes, hot and quick._

_"You never loved me. You never cared. If you did, you wouldn't have always gone away to war. You would've stayed and protected me… from him… from this…"_

_Amber's face contorted in pain then, and Esther's eyes widened as Amber looked down to her abdomen. Esther followed her gaze and felt as though her whole world was crumbling around her as she was holding the knife that was inside her sister's stomach. She fought to let go of the knife, but it was as if her hand was stuck around the handle, glued to it with an invisible force. Amber looked up at her and meeting her gaze one more time, Esther noticed the humour dancing in her sister's eyes._

_"You might as well have been the one to do it—"_

Esther jolted awake, gasping for breath. She jumped from the mattress on the floor as if she had been thrown from it and stood in the middle of the room shaking as she tried to control her breathing. Sweat poured from her as her breathing was quick and ragged, panic seemingly encasing her in an unwelcomed hold. The moon shone through the gap in the curtain and shone on the face of the sleeping girl who had shared her room with Esther. Understanding that Meghan could sleep through anything, Esther was grateful that she hadn't disturbed the young girl.

She remained stood there for a few moments before the panic retreated from her, hurrying away as quick as it had come just in case she went into battle with it. She pulled open her pack and quickly removed the soaked clothes that was a pair of shorts from Tara and a tank top from Lilly. She slipped into the extra clothes that the sisters were kind enough to give to her when they had seen the lack of clothes that the both of them had with them.

She moved out of the room and quickly slipped into the bathroom adjacent to the girl's bedroom, unaware of Daryl sitting up from his place on the couch at the sudden movement.

Esther saw her ghostly pale reflection looking back at her as she grabbed hold of the sink to keep her standing. Her eyes were red from crying, with tear stains mixed with sweat covering her face. Her hair was damp and clung to her face and neck. She didn't look any different to when she would go swimming, in fact, she was sure she was more soaked now than she ever was in the water.

She turned the tap, cupping cold water into the makeshift bowl with her hands and lifted it to her face. Her body reacted to the cold with a shudder, but she quickly washed the sweat from her face and tried desperately to rid herself of the nightmare that seemed to cling onto her back.

Once she was done, the cold water replacing any warmth in her body, she gave herself one last look in the mirror before she turned to leave. What she wasn't expecting to see when she opened the door, however, was Daryl standing there with his arm in the air and his hand ready to knock on the door.

"Hey," he said, lowering his hand and letting it hang at his side. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Esther said, rather too quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ya been in there for nearly an hour."

Even though his face was obscured by the darkness of the room, she could feel him furrow his brow at her as he was able to see her eyes widen a little as time had well and truly slipped away from her.

"I had… a nightmare," she whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. He nodded, chewed on the skin around his thumbnail.

"Ya wanna talk about it?"

Esther knew his suggestion was out of a good heart, but she couldn't help but feel as though he was prying on her emotional state. She knew that not to be the case, knowing that it was just her heightened state of anxiety that she was currently riding the wave of and that his question was an innocent way of reminding her that she didn't have to carry such a burden on her own.

Esther found herself nodding and she felt as though the ground was going to open up and swallow her whole. In a way, she hoped it would.

Daryl moved away from her then, the warmth that radiated from him being replaced with the cold night that wrapped around her bare limbs. He returned to the couch which was serving as a bed with a pillow and a fluffy blanket. She was aware that he had made her a seat beside him, throwing the blanket behind him, but she moved past him and sat on the window seat. She felt his gaze on her, but she never looked back at him.

"She was getting ready to go out with her friends," Esther's voice broke as she stared out of the window, and Daryl could only watch as her figure shifted slightly, more out of discomfort of opening up than anything else. He remained on the couch, his eyes never leaving her face, lit up by the white hue of the moon. "I was on tour over in Iraq and our chats on a Friday evening were my saving grace. Kept me going. She was chatting about what she was going to wear. The connection was bad, but her voice travelled with such excitement that it felt like I was there with her, sat on the bed, watching as she lifted up dresses to her frame. It was the last time I would ever hear her voice and see her face."

She stopped for a moment, rubbing at her arms. Daryl found himself moving closer to her, knowing the chat was something he hadn't expected from her. He expected her to talk through her nightmare with him, not open up about her sister who he remembered had died before the outbreak. He was grateful that she was opening up to him. When her eyes lifted to him, his breath hitched inside his chest as he saw just how broken she was. There was something else hiding and it wasn't until he saw the quiver in her bottom lip that he realised what it was: guilt.

He understood, wholeheartedly. His own brother Merle had always enjoyed going out on a bender and hooking up with numerous women. He had always been a reckless son-of-a-bitch who would keep Daryl up all night worrying if he was dead in a ditch somewhere or if he was locked up in the county jail for God knows what. But nine times out of ten, he would always crawl home when the sun was rising in the sky looking worse for wear. He was irresponsible but he always knew his whereabouts. It must've been hard being so far away when shit went down.

"I was on a camp bed in the middle of a war zone when I got the news," Esther started, voice wavering as she shook away the emotion uncomfortably. "Abraham came over to me and pulled me away from the others. Told me I had a call. Which was only ever used when emergency situations happened. It's usually us calling them if things went to shit but… I saw from his eyes that something was wrong. I took the call… it was my father; my mom was too upset to talk. Who wouldn't be, huh?" She wrung her hands together. "My sister, who had been so excited to go out with friends, had been found that morning in her flat. Her ex-boyfriend… never liked the guy, could tell something was _off_ about him the first time we met… had stalked her on every social media platforms to find out where she was, who she was spending time with and had waited until she got home that night. A friend had walked her to her door, wished her goodnight and waited until she closed the door behind her and locked it. She was home. She should've been safe."

Daryl didn't understand why but he reached out his hand to her and squeezed her sore hands. Esther was silent for a moment as she stared at his hand on hers.

"He'd had a key from before. I was always telling her to change the locks and she was always promising me that she would do it but…" Esther faltered with a shake of the head; knowing hindsight being a wonderful thing. But it had cost her sister's life. "He stabbed her eighteen times. And that was it. She was gone. Everything she had been and everything she would be was ripped away from her as soon as he plunged the knife into her over and over."

"M'sorry," Daryl kept his hand on hers, but this time, she allowed him to hold her hand. He gave her a reassuring and gentle squeeze, a sign of his sorrow for her.

Esther simply shrugged, wiping away her tears with the other hand. "Ever since… the department store, I dream about her being the little girl. So defenceless, so scared. The department fades into nothing and it's me and her again, but she's different. She's… bitter that I wasn't there, that I didn't stop him…"

"That ain't true," Daryl was quick to say. "Ya would've done everythin' for that girl. Ya do it for people ya just met, I can only imagine what ya'd do for ya family."

Esther's lip quivered. "I left them."

Daryl fell into silence as he understood what she meant. She was right, she had to leave her family behind in order to protect other people. It was a job that she often felt selfish having; knowing just how much her family missed her, and how much she wanted to be with them. Her comrades quickly became like brothers to her, especially living so closely with them and sharing crazy, mind-bending, life-altering experiences with them, all the while her own family was at home wondering if she was safe.

"And I was over here when the shit hit the fan," Esther said, finding more things to find fault with. "I should've been at home with my parents. I was meant to be taking leave when that call came through. I just—let the people around me down, all the time."

"Ya never let me down," Daryl said, hoping his words would allow Esther some comfort. "I've known ya for, what? Two months now? And ya done more for me in that time than any of my own family have in all my years walkin' on this earth."

"But that's my duty," Esther refuted.

"Ya don't have a duty anymore. Not to this country. Ya free from all that," Daryl tried to explain to her. "Don't guilt ya self for every little thing out of ya control. Ya saved that little girl in that department store and ya got pretty banged up for it. An' I know ya would've given anythin' for a time machine to go back and save ya sister from that monster but… do ya really think she would want ya to blame ya self for the rest of ya life? Life was short before but it's mighty fuckin' short now. There's no way ya should be livin' with ghosts when the dead walking is bad enough."

**.x.**

It felt as though Esther had only just closed her eyes when the sun peeked through the curtain and engulfed the entire apartment in a wonderful golden hue of a new day. She had settled down on the opposite couch with Daryl just an arm's reach away from her, and the world of sleep had taken her hand and guided her so gently into the realms of dreams as soon as her head rested on the pillow that Daryl had given her.

She pulled up the sheet to cover her face from the intrusive light, as her mind grew aware of her surroundings around her, the voices of their new group capturing her attention. She heard Daryl's gruff voice close to her and could only assume that he had overslept, their talk having surpassed their usual length of conversation. Neither one of them were much talkers and being welcomed into the family of a new group had given them new people to get to know and who wanted to know almost every little detail about them. Esther was more open to the conversations than Daryl was, but he was getting used to them and their small talk.

Esther allowed her eyes to flutter open against the harsh light as she sat up, the blanket that she had refused to take from Daryl having been put over her once she had fallen asleep. She looked at Daryl with a furrowed brow and he smirked.

"Did you have a sleepover?" Meghan's voice asked as she closed the gap between her and Esther. The soldier widened her eyes in shock and choked on a breath, causing the little girl to giggle uncontrollably. Lilly and Tara smirked as both sisters looked between Daryl and Esther to see who broke first.

"No… we, uh… we were just talking about the plan for today," Esther explained first causing Tara and Lilly to smirk and roll their eyes playfully. "I was just explaining to Daryl that it might be wise to check the stores around here—"

Meghan furrowed her brow. "But why are you—"

"You know, that's a great idea!" Lilly beamed, playing along. "We could see if we could get you some new clothes, Meg!"

Esther widened her eyes at Lilly and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that if the silence carried on any longer, the young girl would never give up and keep asking questions.

"Ya alright comin' out with me?" Daryl asked Tara, knowing that Esther's recent avoidance to going out on supply runs wouldn't be eradicated overnight. The young cop nodded and told him quickly that she'd get ready to leave, disappearing into the bedroom she shared with her sister.

Lilly heated up a can of beans on the camping hob and separated the contents into five bowls, giving extra to the two heading out. There was no dispute from anyone except Daryl who shook his head; he could survive on less, hell, he'd even gone a whole week without food whilst he and Esther had escaped the city. He was adamant about swapping bowls with Meghan, she was a growing girl and needed more than he did, but Lilly was quick to reassure him.

When the duo was ready to head out, Esther glanced in Daryl's direction, faltering when she realised his gaze was already on her. Daryl could see it clear as day that, despite her physical wounds having healed and scarred over, her mind was still finding difficulty in being anywhere other than in the apartment she now stood in. She had spent most of her recovery time out in the open, being vulnerable, defenceless and weak and not being able to protect Daryl as much as she usually was able to. But Daryl never expected her to protect him, for as soon as their eyes met in the elevator shaft, his fear clearing as he realised she was alive albeit hurt badly, he had vowed that he would protect her until his dying day. She had shown and proved herself time and time again, and now, it was his turn.

"Be careful," she said in a whisper, to which he nodded, his eyes never breaking away from hers. He shouldered his crossbow and handed Tara a small pistol: an extra one never did any harm was always his reasoning. And with one last glance in her direction, he closed the door behind him, waiting to hear Lilly lock it behind them before his retreating footsteps could be heard and with that, they were gone.


	14. 2:2 - Hundred Ways

Part Two

..

Two

_Hundred Ways_

**.x.**

"There's a man out there," Meghan's soft voice filled the room, causing her mother and Esther to glance in her direction. Lilly was patching up a few garments occasionally pricking herself with the needle as she stitched up the holes whilst Esther cleaned her boots at the dining table. Esther was quick to her feet and closed the gap between herself and the young girl, her brow furrowed as her eyes scanned the streets below.

"Where is he?" Esther asked the young girl who simply pointed in response. The soldier followed the girl's finger and narrowed her stare, watching for any movement in the distance. She lifted the binoculars from the table and stared out at the street below; it was relatively quiet, peaceful even. She blinked a few times, still seeing nothing. "Are you sure you saw someone out there?"

"Meghan, you've got to be telling us the truth," Lilly told her daughter. "We can't risk any lying."

"I'm not lying, mom," Meghan refuted, her voice defiant despite its immaturity. "He was wearing a sheriff's hat. He was running through the st—"

"I see him," Esther said, straining her eyes. The man was darting towards a tank with a sea of dead surrounding him. They reached for him, snapping their jaws in his direction, fascinated by his scent. _He is as good as dead_, a small voice popped into her mind and she faltered. She was never like this; she always wanted to try her best. She was a protector, a fighter, putting herself in danger in order to save others. Daryl had been quick to notice that in the short time they knew each other and it had stuck with her. And yet, here she was: predicting his death before her very own eyes without trying anything to save him.

She felt the fear rattling against her bones, threatening to break her down. She tried to reason with herself. Was it her job to save every person they came across? Was it her responsibility to protect everyone? She knew the answer deep down; it was an internal daily battle. It had been instilled in her for as long as she could remember that her duty as a soldier was to protect.

"What do we do?" Lilly's question hung in the air.

Esther thought for a moment, the panic within her rising as she knew she had to think logically about her next move. There were two possibilities: it could be a man in real, serious danger who requires help; it was a trick, a ploy to draw any good-natured people out of their homes in order to cause serious harm to them. She closed her eyes at the latter, knowing what that meant in its entirety.

"Is there a way out of this window?"

Lilly nodded. "Yeah, there's a fire escape outside my window."

"Okay," Esther nodded, quickly dressing. The clothes that Lilly and Tara had both offered her had been a grateful change whilst her uniform remained neatly folded in a drawer where the now unused television set was. She pulled on her boots. "I'm going to need you both to be my look-outs. I need to make sure my surroundings are safe for me to go check on this guy. You got that?"

Mother and daughter nodded at Esther. She tightened her belt and opened the drawer above where her clothes were. Lilly had reassured her that storing her weapons would be okay as Meghan understood the true dangers of guns.

Esther faltered as she saw her weapons laid out for her. She quickly swallowed the fear and placed them upon her body. In a way, deep down, Esther felt alive as soon as she adorned her uniform and shouldered her weapons.

"He's still in there," Meghan told her as Esther approached the window for one last look.

"Keep windows and doors locked, unless it's Daryl and Tara returning which—" Esther glanced at her watch. "—is unlikely for another couple hours. Try and keep your eyes on the street around me; I'll do my best to not rely on you but if anyone, walker or living person, comes out of any alleyway and I don't see them, call out. I'd rather you notify everyone around the area of my existence than watching as they approach me and not saying a word. I can defend myself, okay?"

"What about…" Lilly was aware of her daughter listening and mouthed, "… _snipers._"

"It's unlikely," Esther glanced outside once more, seeing nothing untoward on top of the buildings. "But I won't rule it out. I'm just hoping it's this one guy and that's it."

Esther moved into Lilly's bedroom and lifted open the window, shuffling herself out so that her feet rested on the metal fire escape.

Lilly reached out for Esther's hand that rested on the windowsill. "Be safe, Esther."

Esther offered her a knowing nod. "Remember—"

"—lock the windows when you leave," Meghan confirmed with a nervous toothy grin.

Esther smirked and nodded. She lifted herself off the windowsill and observed the area. With a deep breath to settle any last nerves, she moved from the window and descended the fire escape. She made short work of heading down from the fifteen floor, and before she knew it, she was on the ground. She kept her weapon poised, aiming it down the alleyway behind her before advancing towards the army tank. The dead were surrounding it, with all of them hammering against the exterior metal frame. She stared at it for a moment, her position protected, before she looked around her; nothing but empty streets surrounded her, with the walkers having cordoned off the tank, their only food source to have seemingly walked straight into them.

To the left of her, she could see, with a squint, the carcass of a horse that was being completely devoured by the dead who didn't seem to be that bothered by the man in the tank.

"Psst—" a voice sounded in the distance. She lifted her rifle higher and searched for the voice, not knowing if it was to capture her attention or someone else's of her presence.

A man's head hopped out from behind a large industrial bin in an alley. A bright red cap on his head. _A sniper's dream_, she thought to herself. It took her a moment to understand he was trying to get her attention, and with a quick overview of the area, she moved towards him, without capturing the attention of the dead.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, her voice stern and authoritative.

He gave her attire a once over. "You're a little late to the party."

Esther raised her brows at him, and he shuffled nervously under her gaze.

"You're here for the same guy, right?" he continued. "The cowboy with a sheriff's hat."

"Yeah, I am…" Esther told him after a beat. "He still in there?"

"Affirmative," the man said, and cast another glance towards the tank. He motioned towards the radio in his hand. "I'm trying to draw him out with this. I saw him on a horse strolling into town and I thought, _shit_, he really is a cowboy. And then all hell broke loose… and let's just say Shergar the horse didn't come out of it well, but cowboy here went into this thing before I could get his attention. I don't know the channel for this thing."

"May I?" Esther asked to which the man nodded. "What's your name?"

"Glenn."

"Alright… you know how to shoot?" she asked, her gaze narrowing as his own eyes widened.

He lifted his baseball bat nervously. "I can swing real good, if that makes a difference?"

Esther let a smirk etch across her mouth. She lifted the radio to her mouth, and clicked the button. "Hey asshole in the tank. This is the US army, well one of them… the tank you are currently in has been compromised by a shit load of dead people. And now I'm having to save your ass from either suffocating as the air will no doubt be running out in there _and_ by the dead who want to eat your ass. So, if you can hear me and I'm not talking to myself, can you give me a signal?"

The tank lid lifted and closed.

"Alright, cool," Esther continued talking on the radio. "I'm gonna give you five more minutes in there whilst I take care of some of these undead civilians and then I'm going to need you to run towards the alleyway next to the old bank. Got that?"

The tank lid lifted and closed once more. Esther handed the radio back to Glenn.

She handed him her rifle. "You know how to shoot, right?" she asked again to which he shook his head. "Just aim at the head of the dead and press the trigger. Just… don't shoot me."

"You're really trusting me with this thing?"

"I don't want to but you're all I have."

Glenn widened his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. He nodded. "Good luck… if the dead don't kill you then I might…"

"That's… not reassuring at all," she whispered mostly to herself. She pulled her knife from her boot and without a second thought, crept out from the alleyway and started to take down the unsuspecting dead who hadn't heard her approach them. She slashed and stabbed at their heads, watching and feeling as they dropped to the ground, as she advanced further. The feeling of her blade penetrated their skulls and brains was a feeling she hadn't missed at all, and even though she knew it needed to be done, the break from not having to do that had been an unexpected welcome one. It was filthy and messy, and she felt the blank gunk that was once their brains seeping down her arms from the blade. The unrelenting heat had caused the skin to begin to come away from their bodies and the blade seemed to be pulling the skin away with it every time she pulled it out of their heads.

She heard heaving behind her but didn't cast a glance in his direction. She worked her way through the dead, aware of their attention turning towards her. Soon there were more advancing towards her than she was comfortable with, and then it felt as though all time seemed to slow.

She allowed instinct to take over, the sensation in her limbs urging her on as her body worked around the dead who were all hell bent on ripping her apart. Her mind blurred, her vision became sharper, and her body was controlled. She worked up a routine: thrusting the knife into their heads and then pushing them to the ground. Over and over again until she was satisfied with her work. The scene in front of her was a surreal one. The walkers around her were dead; their bodies lying on the ground, some lying on others.

Esther allowed a moment to take a deep breath and it was then that she noticed the burn in her limbs. The calm before the storm, the silence before the crack of lightning.

"Esther!" Lilly's voice screamed through the silence of the street and Esther turned around just in time to see stray walkers behind her, forgetting the grand prize of a horse as their meal.

One grabbed at her but she wasn't quick enough to pull the knife around, and so with the handle of the knife, she hit it in the head repeatedly. The handle wasn't doing much damage, not the way she had hoped it would; it was simply, with her strength, mushing the skin on its skull more and causing bits of skin to come away and drip onto her. She lost her footing, force of the walkers pushing her further back, and she stumbled, crashing to the ground.

"Shoot—" she called out to Glenn who fumbled with the rifle. "Glenn—_shoot _!"

And there was a moment, where she stared into the unseeing gaze of the dead on her, that she wondered if this was it. Everything she had been, everything she would be, would be gone. She struggled against the strength of the dead man above her, and she fought with every part of her just as more advanced towards her, kneeling beside her on the ground to rip her apart. And it was then that she accepted her death.

She let out a scream as she fought against them. If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting for her life.

The head of the dead man jolted back, an arrow with a red tip penetrated the walker's head. And it was only when her gaze focused did she release the breath—her last one, she believed it to be—she didn't know she was holding.

**.x.**

Daryl Dixon stared at the woman on the ground, the dead surrounding her and advancing towards her. There were dead civilians discarded on the ground, her handiwork having claimed their true demise. He cast his gaze around and watched as a Korean man fumbled with the rifle—one that he understood to be Esther's—as she called out to him to shoot the dead upon her. She was struggling against the force of the dead who had knocked her off her feet, causing her to stumble and tumble to the ground.

He had seen the look on her face and his heart dropped. He had seen it before and it was something he hadn't expected to see again; the acceptance of the situation, of a death that would happen if he didn't do anything. The man who had Esther's rifle was still fumbling with it. He lifted his crossbow and aimed at the undead man on top of the soldier.

He released the arrow from the crossbow, watching it slice through the air, and hit the man in the head and right between the eyes. The heavy weight of the man caused her arms to buckle underneath her, as his body settled on top of her. He heard Tara rush out from behind him and head towards Esther, her own knife raised and ready to strike. He moved forward, another arrow ready and prepared to take down another walker. Esther remained on the ground, winded and all breath having escaped her. The man in the alleyway neglected the rifle and raced towards them with the baseball bat, whacking a walker across the head and causing them to drop to the ground.

He continued to hit them over and over, and Daryl narrowed his gaze at him just as Tara took down the last walker. Daryl never muttered a word as he closed the gap between himself and Esther; taking a moment to look down at her. She was staring up at the sky, her eyes having glazed over, the body of the dead man still on her.

He grabbed hold of him and pulled him off her. He grabbed a handful of her uniform with both hands and pulled her to her feet. Her legs were like jelly, but her eyes were on him. He kept hold of her for a while longer until he was sure she wouldn't collapse to the ground.

"Is she… is she okay?" the man with the baseball bat asked. Daryl threw a glare in his direction and pointed a finger at him.

"She's fine!" he bit at him. "She would've been _okay_ if she wasn't out here saving ya goddamn ass."

Daryl looked her in the eye, and gently moved his hand to her face where blood from the walkers was smeared on her face and neck.

"Not yours," he whispered to her, and she took a moment to confirm his words. "Ya okay."

It was more of a statement than a question, and she nodded slowly. It was just a moment she was having, a blip. Nothing more than that. Daryl knew that, and so did Esther.

"She wasn't saving my ass," the Korean man refuted. "We were saving a guy in_ that_ tank."

Daryl snapped his gaze at the unmissable tank. He turned back to Esther, ensuring she was stable enough to leave her side. She offered him a nod, which he returned before stepping away from her. He marched towards the tank, stepping over the dead, and banged his fist against the tank, hoping it would draw the attention of the man inside. It seemed to stir something inside as a door underneath opened and the man crawled out from it.

"Makin' ya grand entrance, huh?" Daryl hissed at the man as he began to pace, angrily. He couldn't seem to shake the anger he felt, and he wasn't sure if he was directing it at the wrong people. He had promised himself that he would look after Esther; and he felt as though he failed. Was he angry at himself? Was he angry at the strangers for forcing Esther to rescue them? He knew she wouldn't have let them fight the dead without help.

"I—I can't thank you enough," the man ignored Daryl's angry outburst. "You did all this to save me?"

"We both saw you running away from the dead and… it was mostly her," the Korean man told him pointing between him and Esther. The sheriff looked towards Esther, his brow furrowing at the state she was in. He had seen people in a catatonic state before and even though he knew it wasn't as serious as that, she was struggling.

Daryl was aware of the attention that Esther was receiving from both strangers. "She's none of ya concerns, alright? She's been… injured badly. She shouldn't be out here."

Both men nodded and moved their gaze from her.

"I'm Rick Grimes," the man with the sheriff's hat introduced himself. "I was a sheriff for King County."

Daryl narrowed his gaze at Rick, then turned to the Korean man.

"I'm Glenn," the Korean man said, uncomfortable under Daryl's glare. "I was a pizza delivery guy before shit hit the fan."

"What are you doing in this town?" Tara was the one to speak next, and Daryl was grateful. He moved back towards Esther, noticing that she was more herself now than before. The paleness to her face had dissipated and a rosy tint to her cheeks had appeared.

"I came here to see if there was anyone still alive," Rick told them, taking his sheriff's hat off and running a hand through his short, sweaty hair. "I wasn't expecting this. I just… the streets were empty, and then I turned the corner and the dead were just everywhere."

"Where did ya see them?" Daryl asked, his voice lowering as he grew more aware of the fact that there were more walkers around them somewhere.

"A few streets away on the left," Rick told him, to which Daryl nodded with a furrowed brow.

Daryl turned to Tara and she lowered her gaze to the ground, knowing and accepting what he was going to say. "We have to get out of here. It ain't safe anymore."

Glenn swallowed the lump in his throat and pointed. "Uh… guys… there's someone there…"

Despite the sun hanging heavily in the sky and dispelling an uncomfortable amount of heat upon them, two figures stood in the middle of the road just a stone's throw away from the small group wearing hooded garments and dressed all in black. One was taller, an adult, and the other was a child.

Daryl raised his crossbow at them. His eyes flicked to Esther who closed the gap between her and her rifle that was still in the alleyway, and watched as she came into view, standing beside him, rifle poised and aimed at the two figures. A sense of pride washed over him as he understood it was no easy feat to shake the monster on your back, but she was fighting back as much as she could.

Something caught his eye and he squinted against the relentless sunshine. A glint from a large blade attached to the back of the taller one.

"We mean no harm…" a woman's voice called out to them. "We've been looking for you for some time."

**.x.**

Sophia Peletier had lost her mother in the commotion of leaving the department store in Atlanta. She had been ripped from her mother's grasp as the walkers closed in on them. In a city full of dead, she was alone. And for the first few days, she wandered the city on her own, her doll close to her chest. It wasn't long before screams erupted all around her as explosions marked the city, and she had found a hiding space. It wasn't an ideal place to be, but she was too scared to keep running, hoping her mother was safe. She was tired, hungry and frightened.

It wasn't long before she noticed that she wasn't alone. It was subtle at first; writing on the walls advising her to head to a certain place, but she wasn't sure, even at such a young age, whether she could trust it. A part of her wanted to believe it to be her mother but one thing she was sure of; it wasn't her mom's writing. And so, she kept on walking. Days turned into nights, and nights dragged on. Then food was being left for her, a snack bar and a bottle of water being left at different parts of the area. She was hungry and thirsty, and she ate and drank so quickly that she regretted it as soon as she was finished.

It was a week after being separated from her mother did she come face to face with the person who was leaving her supplies.

Michonne was her name. She was kind and protective; and Sophia felt safe.

The weeks had dragged by slowly, but time had rushed by in a flash. She missed her mom more than anyone would understand, she thought. But this woman who had come to her aid and made her safe in the city of dead had saved her, she was sure of it even at her young age. They had left the city, with Michonne deeming it unsafe to live around buildings broken by the explosions and had found shelter in a neighbouring town. They walked and walked, sometimes for days, and finding shelter in the evenings where they would eat in silence, both harbouring pain that was different but identical. They had both lost someone dear to them.

But as they walked through the town, aware of the amount of dead that filled the streets, Sophia had seen a face she recognised. And one that she was sure belonged to someone she knew. Michonne had wanted to know if she was one hundred percent sure as they were heavily outnumbered. Sophia was adamant, and that was enough for Michonne.

"We mean no harm…" Michonne called out to them. "We've been looking for you for some time."

The man with the crossbow who Sophia had whispered his name to her tightened his grasp on his weapon. _Daryl could shoot us both dead right this second._ Sophia, beside her, pulled her hood off.

The soldier lowered her rifle and let it hang down beside her. Sophia squinted against the sunlight and watched as Esther turned to Daryl who met her gaze in shock. He lowered his crossbow and Sophia found herself running towards them; the time they had spent together was short, but they were here.

She had found them.


	15. 2:3 - Motion Sickness

_Author's Note: So this chapter pretty much gained feet and started running away from me, and before I knew it, I was 6000 words deep. This explores more about Esther and the events leading up to the outbreak, as well as welcoming back an old face or two! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I feel like it tied a few loose ends up from previous chapters as well as opening a few conversations that needed to be had._

_I'm so excited for you guys to read the next few chapters; it breaks away from the show and is completely original. _

_Hope you guys enjoy! _

* * *

Part Two

..

Three

_Motion Sickness_

**.x.**

_Sophia._

The young girl rushed over to Esther, breaking into a sprint, and wrapped her arms around her waist. Esther dropped to her knees, the rifle dropping to the ground, and held the young girl tightly in her arms. She placed a hand upon the back of her head and held her close. Esther thought about the last time she had seen her; she had promised Sophia that she would come back, making a promise that she hadn't kept in that moment. But she was back, and Sophia was alive. She had thought the worse, both she and Daryl did.

Esther's eyes fell on the woman who was staring at their embrace, a soft and genuine smile on her face. Esther released Sophia from the hug and looked at the young girl's face. She looked older, more mature. Her eyes, once innocent and young, were different and Esther was aware of what Sophia could have seen in the time between the last time they were together and this moment.

"Are you okay?" Esther asked, her voice low.

Sophia nodded with a small smile. "Michonne found me. She's my friend, like you are."

Esther returned her smile and hugged the girl one more time before she stood up. She moved over to where Michonne was standing, and she sensed the woman tense up. "Thank you for taking care of her. I know her mom would appreciate it knowing a stranger was kind enough to take her in and look after her."

Michonne nodded slowly. "She's a great kid."

"Yeah she is," Esther smirked, turning to Sophia and watching as she hugged Daryl. "Thank you again."

Michonne offered her a toothy grin. "It was nothing."

It was everything, but Esther understood her reasonings for downplaying it. She rested her hands on her hips as she observed Sophia introducing herself to Rick, Glenn and Tara with a smile.

A shiver ran down her spine and Esther shook it off, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. She couldn't ignore it; instinct and experience had taught her to listen to her gut. Daryl caught her eye and furrowed his brows at her. She took a moment in the calm to glance around at the rooftops, and Daryl tilted his head at her but did the same, the grip on his crossbow tightening as they both searched the rooftops, the alleyways that they could see from where they stood, as well as the main streets and roads.

"What's the matter?" Michonne asked, her voice low as she sensed something shift in the atmosphere.

Esther's gaze fell on her rifle on the ground and cursed herself mentally. "We're being watched."

Even though her voice was low, it moved through the space between them all like thunder rolling towards them. She watched Glenn pick up the rifle, readying himself in case he was needed.

"I need you all to head to that alleyway where Glenn is on the count of three," Esther whispered, her gaze falling on the bobbing head on the rooftop. "One… two… three—"

They raced towards the alleyway just as a gunshot cut through the air, clipping the asphalt beside Esther's feet. Daryl pulled her into the alley quickly, and Glenn threw the rifle in her direction. She caught it with ease and, closing one eye, she looked through the eye piece, weapon aimed at where the shot had come from. Michonne was holding Sophia tightly and reassuring her.

"What can ya see?"

She wanted to see something, but there was nothing. She had seen the bobbing of a head, and the gunshot had been too close for comfort. But as she stared at the space where she had seen the sniper, she couldn't see anything. "I can't see anything," Esther whispered, shuffling a little so she could see more of the rooftop in case whoever had shot at them had moved.

And it was then that they heard shouting in the distance, hollering to capture the attention of people. Esther looked towards Daryl who shook his head. They couldn't figure out what the person was saying; and they wondered if they were shouting at them or shouting to whoever they were with.

"Uh, guys," Glenn said, and Esther snapped her head back to the street as the dead, having heard the gunshot in the open air, were heading their way.

"Shit," Daryl said, suddenly aware of Sophia's presence within the group. "Sorry."

Esther weighed up her decisions: there was a sniper who had already shot at them, and were probably waiting for them to sneak out of the alleyway to shoot them again, and she knew they had to be aware of them watching every move they made, but she also had to consider the walkers on the ground with them. If they focused on one of them, the other would be neglected and both could kill them.

"We need to head back to the apartment," Esther whispered, capturing the attention of everyone around her. "I'll cover you guys, make sure you get back there safe."

"No…"

Esther narrowed her gaze at Daryl. "No?"

"Ya gonna try and find the sniper," he replied with a shake of the head. "I ain't letting ya do that."

"It's probably the only way for us to leave the area," Esther refuted. "We can't have walkers on our heels and a sniper watching us like we're prey."

"If ya gonna do it, ya ain't going alone," Daryl simply said, knowing Esther wasn't going to back down. There was no way of arguing with her, he knew that it wouldn't get him anywhere.

Esther nodded to him, silently grateful that he wasn't shutting her down. She was aware that she probably wasn't in the best state at the moment; she was healed from her injuries, but it was the invisible ones that were the most painful and overwhelming ones to heal from. She was struggling, and Daryl understood completely. And he wasn't forcing her to get back out there or keeping her back and wrapping her in cotton wool, he was simply supporting her for when she decided she was better. Daryl was capable of protecting the others with Esther being a prominent part in the group, he understood she needed to heal and fight whatever battle she was dealing with, but now that the group had multiplied within the space of an hour, he was happy that Esther was feeling better in herself. He had seen the state she was in when he had returned, with him and Tara having heard a commotion and having gone to investigate it. There was a part of him that believed that she had been bitten or worse, dead. It frightened him that she had felt the need to head out and protect someone, but she had made amazing strides in recuperating and claiming back a piece of her that she had lost along the way.

"You know how to shoot a gun, right?" Esther asked Rick, to which he nodded.

"I was a sheriff for nearly ten years," Rick confirmed to her. "I'll go with you. I'm a good shot."

Daryl turned to Esther. "Ya sure about this?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod, her gaze burning into his. "I'm ready."

Daryl found himself nodding, his gaze never wavering from hers. "I know. I never doubted ya for a second."

A smile formed on her lips, and Esther felt winded. "Get them back to the apartment, grab any supplies you can get your hands on, and get ready to leave. We have to get out of this town, it's compromised."

Daryl nodded, shouldering his crossbow.

"We'll cover you," Esther continued. "Once we know you're inside and safe, we'll head up there and see what the situation is."

There was a moment where everyone nodded at her orders.

"You're in good hands with this guy, okay?" Esther bumped shoulders with Daryl as he nervously lowed his gaze to the ground. "Listen to everything he says."

"Don't do that…" Daryl whispered mostly to her, knowing where she was going with her speech. "This ain't goodbye."

"I know," Esther smirked at him, aware of the intensity of his stare upon her.

"How much time shall we wait before you guys are back?" Glenn asked, his voice breaking the eye contact of Daryl and Esther.

"Thirty minutes," Esther said, watching Daryl lower his head knowing there was an ultimate time limit. "We'll be back by then."

Sophia moved towards Esther and reached out her hand, her little finger pointing out. "Pinky promise?"

"That's some serious shit right there," Daryl smirked, wincing again at his cuss word. "Sorry."

Sophia giggled in response and waited for Esther to return it. When Esther linked her little finger with hers, a promise had been made. Sophia hugged Esther once more before returning to Michonne's side.

Esther watched as everyone prepared to leave, the speeches and promises having been made. Esther readied herself to cover Daryl and the others.

"We follow behind them, I'll cover you as well," Esther told Rick. "We slip into that alleyway over there," she pointed towards the one further up that lead to the other streets that he had previously tried to reach before the dead had cornered him. "And then we head to that building and see what's happening up there. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah," Rick nodded.

Esther moved to the mouth of the alleyway but was stopped by Daryl.

"Hey—" Daryl reached for her hand and pulled her to him. He stared down at her, suddenly aware of the close proximity between them. "Stay safe, yeah? Ya feel that gut instinct that's saved ya ass all those times before beginning to kick in, ya get ya ass outta there. Ya come back to me, okay?"

Esther swallowed the lump in her throat as goosebumps scattered across her body like rolling thunder. His voice was soft and genuine, and Esther hadn't realised it could ever sound like that. She found herself nodding; all words that she wanted to say jumbling up in her mind.

"Hasta la vista, baby," Esther struggled to compose herself.

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "That ain't funny but it'll do for now."

Esther closed the small gap between them and wrapped her arms around Daryl. He stood there as stiff as an ironing board for a small moment before he released the tension from his body and returned the hug, his arms weaving around her body and holding her tight against his chest. Daryl reluctantly released her after a moment, and nervously shouldered his crossbow. And with a nod, he joined the other group, leaving Esther to compose herself.

She lifted her rifle, moving back to the mouth of the alleyway. "Alright, are you ready?"

The group collectively nodded, and as they moved out of the alleyway, Esther took her position and covered them as they headed back to the apartment with Daryl leading them. Her gaze was on the rooftop where she had seen the figure but as they made their way back, aware of the walkers close by, she couldn't see a thing. As the group reached the alleyway of where the fire escape was, Esther and Rick followed on and raced into the opposite alley.

As they headed towards the building, they worked in silence as they took care of any stragglers that were oblivious to their presence. They climbed the fire escape to the roof of the apartment building, their footing light and cautious of the height. Esther aimed her weapon up, taking the lead, whilst Rick covered them at the back. Once they reached the roof, Esther placed a finger on her lips to which Rick nodded, aware that whoever was on the roof was most likely still around. Esther couldn't afford for whoever it was to know about them being so close. They manoeuvred around the large chimneys and stopped once they heard cursing.

The man was yanking at something, and as Esther peered around the corner, she narrowed her gaze. The sound of metal against metal sounded.

"I ain't nobody's bitch," the man whispered. "I ain't done shit but be good. They took everything from me… and now those assholes have chained me to the goddamn roof… I ain't gonna die here… I ain't..."

Esther turned to Rick and mouthed: "Stay here."

Esther rose from her crouched position and advanced towards the man. She raised her weapon and slipped into view for the man. She clicked her tongue, drawing his attention away from the pipe.

"You've got to be kidding me," Esther muttered, lowering her weapon.

Merle Dixon was alive and well and chained to the rooftop of an apartment building. His skin was red and blistered, the unrelenting sun having taken itself out on him. Esther wondered how long he'd been up on the roof for.

"Soldier girl, that you?" Merle asked, squinting against the sunshine, his voice trailing off. "Yer alive or yer a ghost come to collect my soul?"

"How did you…"

"Found myself with the wrong crowd," he shrugged and moved back to trying to escape from his restraints. Rick came out from behind the chimney and watched the scene unfold in front of him. Merle continued to pull against his restraints. "They stole all my shit…"

"You shot at us," Esther seethed.

"Thought I heard my Darylina," Merle whispered with a shrug, yanking at the chain again. "Been hearin' and seein' some crazy ass shit."

"That's because you did hear your brother."

Merle stopped then, and turned his head, his gaze—so similar and yet so different from his brothers—meeting hers. "He alive?"

Esther nodded. "Yeah. We made it out of the department store. We looked for you."

"We thought ya were dead," Merle said bluntly. "Ya both just… disappeared."

Esther could only nod in silence. It was awful for both her and Daryl, but she couldn't imagine what it was like for Merle and Abraham to watch the scene unfold without being able to do anything.

"Is…" her voice trailed off.

"Abraham is fine," Merle told her. "He was still an asshole. He ain't with me anymore."

Esther moved towards Merle, resting her rifle against the pipes. She looked at the wounds to Merle's wrists, determining they were days old. "Who did this to you?"

"Some guys who I thought were okay," Merle told her. "Thought they were my friends, y'know. But news just in… they were assholes."

"Merle Dixon having friends?" Esther smirked. "I've seen it all now."

Merle smirked and flipped her off. "Ya gonna get me out of these or am I gonna have to shoot at ya again?"

"It's a good thing it was us that you shot at us," Esther said, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, I thought I was shootin' at fuckin' ghosts so… ya lucky," Merle commented. "My mind… it ain't…"

"Sun stroke," Rick interjected. "Got it bad last summer and thought I was going crazy."

Merle turned to stare at Rick. "Who's this guy? He's really wearin' that sheriff's hat, right? That ain't my mind playin' tricks on me?"

"That's Rick," Esther told him as she inspected the handcuff lock. She slipped a hair grip from her hair. "We found him today."

"He knows he's wearin' that sheriff's hat, right? He realises the world has ended and there ain't no patrollin' the streets anymore?"

"Ignore him," Esther told Rick with a smirk, rolling her eyes at Merle's comments. "Unfortunately, he's always this charming. Nothing to do with sun stroke."

"Oh, I have been," Rick commented with a chuckle.

Esther manoeuvred the hair grip in the lock, working away at trying to trick it into unlocking. It took a few minutes and a few grunts from Merle, but when the handcuffs snapped open, Merle hollered in relief.

"Ya an angel, my girl," Merle hugged Esther tightly, and punched the air.

"We're going to have to clean that area," Esther told him. "We've been staying at an apartment a few streets away. We'll head back there. Can you walk?"

"I ain't born yesterday, soldier girl," Merle countered sarcastically. Esther was the one to flip him the bird this time, and Merle chuckled.

They made their way down the fire escape, with Esther cautious of Merle's unsteady footing. She prepared herself to catch him in case he slipped down the stairs, taking Rick out in the process. She kept a grasp on his shirt to steady him. Once they reached the ground, Esther breathed a sigh of relief. They retraced their steps, slipping into the alleyways and away from the dead. As the sounds of the dead closed in around them, they had reached the street they needed.

"I ain't—" Merle trailed off as consciousness slipped away from him, exhaustion and dehydration taking hold of him. Esther caught him just before he crashed to the ground, slowly and carefully easing him to the ground.

"Shit," Esther cursed, as her gaze fell on the apartment a block away and then towards the walkers who were stumbling around the street aimlessly. "Have you got a mirror?"

"I've got my badge, why?"

"I'm going to try and use the sun and shine it into the window," Esther told him. "It's dangerous us being out here surrounded by walkers. I don't safe with one of us staying out here whilst the other goes for help."

Rick unhooked it from his shirt and handed it to her.

"You still wear it?" Esther asked, motioning towards his uniform.

He nodded proudly. "You still wear yours?"

Esther chewed at her lip. "The world… it's… we did our best, you know?"

Rick cast his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"There isn't anything to be sorry about," Esther whispered sadly. "It's just the way the world is now."

She took with a nod and a smile and positioned it where the sun was. She saw the reflection on the brick beside the window and stepped backwards, watching as it slipped into the window.

It took a moment for any movement to be made inside, but once the window opened and Daryl's head popped out, she sighed gratefully. She watched as he slipped out of the window, down the fire escape and run towards them.

"This the asshole who shot at us?"

"This asshole is someone you know very well," Esther told him, moving out of the way to reveal Merle to his brother. "Daryl… meet your brother, Merle."

Daryl face fell as he saw the state that Merle was in; he was sunburned, every inch of his face was red, sore and blistered. Daryl met Esther's gaze, but she shook her head.

"We should get him inside then I'll explain," Esther told him, and he nodded. Rick and Daryl hauled him up off from the ground and began to haul him to the apartment.

"He's fuckin' heavy," Daryl cursed. "I haven't missed haulin' his ass back home from a dive bar, that's for sure."

Esther smirked, opening the door to the apartment building. They all knew it would be beyond ridiculous trying to carry him up the fire escape and through the window. The apartment foyer and stairs were thankfully empty and scarce of all life, and the stairs were wider for them to drag him up without the worry of the dead hearing their struggle. Esther took his feet.

"Is this the reunion you'd been hoping for?" Rick asked to which Daryl chuckled.

"Hell no."

**.x.**

Merle Dixon was snoring away on the couch oblivious to the people around him. As the dead stumbled aimlessly on the streets beneath them, Esther along with the others planned their next move. Their stay within the town was jeopardised; the dead proving too dangerous to remain in the apartment for another day. Lilly and Tara busied themselves with packing as many supplies as they could; Meghan and Sophia bonded over books and played with Meghan's dolls for a little while; Rick, Glenn and Michonne offered Esther and Daryl information regarding towns and areas that were either safe or compromised, and Daryl marked them all on the map of the city.

"If we're going to leave this place, we're going to need vehicles," Michonne interjected. "It's not going to be easy on foot, especially now that we have Merle who isn't in a good shape at all."

"Ya right," Daryl replied with a sigh, his gaze casting over to his brother. As he stared at the redness to his skin, Daryl knew it wasn't going to be easy getting Merle settled. He was always a loose cannon; with Daryl usually having to clean up after the messes his brother made. He always described Merle as a boomerang; he would always come back no matter what, and just when he truly believed Merle to have gone forever, he came back in his life unexpectantly.

Lilly dropped two car keys on the table. "I have a car, and so does Tara. We could use them."

"Are you sure?" Esther asked, her brow furrowing. "Thank you… we really appreciate it."

Lilly nodded. "Of course, it would be a shame to leave them behind. It's brand new, I only got to drive it a few times before all of this."

"So that's settled then," Daryl chewed at his lip. "We head out to the Quarry tomorrow morning."

**.x.**

As night descended over the town, Esther found herself sitting on the fire escape and watching the dead wander below her. She allowed the cool breeze to kiss her skin, a shiver running through her body as goosebumps marked her skin. Everyone was settling down for the evening, sharing stories and anecdotes of them coming to this moment in their life. Esther had listened for a while, excusing herself just before the attention moved to her. She felt drained, emotionally charged.

A creak of the floorboard caught her attention and she turned, her eyes falling on Sophia. It had only been a few weeks since she had last seen the young girl and Esther could hardly believe how much older she looked; she had grown up so much.

Esther smiled. "Hey, you."

Sophia's smile widened, and she climbed out of the window, settling beside Esther. "Hey," she said softly.

"I'm so happy you found Michonne," Esther told her honestly. "What happened after we…"

Sophia's smile fell, and her brow furrowed. "Merle and Abraham came back and told my mom that you and Daryl hadn't made it."

Esther closed her eyes briefly. "Things… went down and it was touch and go."

"We were all so sad," Sophia whispered. "We heard screaming then and I was so scared. We were running for ages, trying to get out of the building but… I was separated from mommy…"

Esther reached for Sophia as tears filled the young girl's eyes. Esther stayed quiet as Sophia sobbed quietly into the night.

"I haven't seen her in so long," Sophia's voice wavered. "My mommy—"

"—we'll find her," Esther said, defiantly. "You found us. We'll find your mom, I promise."

Esther knew she shouldn't promise such a thing to Sophia, knowing the outcome might not be the one either one was expecting. But they still had to believe; they still had to make promises.

Sophia nodded tearfully and settled beside Esther tiredly. The little girl drifted to sleep, her head on her lap as Esther stroked her hair. Esther rested her head against the brick wall behind her, the sound of the dead lulling her sleep.

"Hey…" Daryl's voice filled her ears and she opened her eyes, her gaze falling on him. "Everyone's bedding down for the night. Meghan's in with her mom now, and the guys are gonna take Meghan's room. Where did ya wanna sleep?"

"I'll probably just take the first watch," Esther told him. Daryl nodded, hesitating by the window frame, his gaze falling on the sleeping girl in her lap.

"Can't believe it," he murmured, taking a seat on the cushion opposite where Esther was seated. "Ya alright?"

Esther shuffled uncomfortably, her gaze observing Daryl as he stared intently at her. "I'm grateful to you. I really am, for… coming after me in that elevator, for risking your life to save me. I never thanked you."

"Ya didn't have to thank me."

"But I did. You never gave up on me even though I was giving up on myself," Esther told him.

"Ya were hurt, ya were dealin' with shit," Daryl responded softly.

Esther ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I… was hurt badly before all of this. I was on tour and everything went wrong…" she hesitated, trying to compose herself. "I lost a lot of my comrades that day."

**.x.**

_The sun beat down on the squad as they made their rounds. The ground beneath them was dry and crumbled beneath their hefty boots as their camo gear hung heavily on their bodies. The neighbourhood around them was eerily silent as shacks lined either side of the dusty road. Their task for the day was a simple sweep of the area to ensure nothing was untoward._

_As Esther followed behind her comrades, the weight of the rifle heavy in her hands, her mind was on the task at hand. The medical backpack carried everything she could ever need, and though it always seemed to be overpacked and heavy, Esther knew she could never go out without every piece of equipment. Though her role as a combat medic was different to her fellow soldiers, she enjoyed the different aspects of each day. Some days were a simple affair and required treatment of blisters, sunburn or an upset stomach, but other times consisted of more serious injuries and wounds that required immediate treatment._

_The full attire was overwhelming at times, and it didn't matter how the weather transpired, it was absolutely necessary for them to be equipped with the full uniform whilst out on their morning mission._

_"A little hot already, isn't it, Doc?" Andrews commented with an exasperated sigh. He wiped his forehead as best as he could underneath his helmet._

_"Not even seven and it's already causing some of us to sunburn," Esther smirked as she tipped her head towards her friend beside her who was quickly turning a shade of red. She looked down at her own hands and saw how her pale skin was already prickling with heat despite the many layers of sun lotion she had made herself and her comrades put on before they left the compound._

_"It seems qu-" Andrews began but was cut off by Esther._

_"Don't say that word," Esther warned, raising her brows at him. She adjusted her rifle knowing that everything could go wrong in the matter of minutes, they didn't need to jinx themselves further._

_Andrews averted his gaze before clearing his throat. His voice was lowered. "How are you and lover boy?"_

_Esther blushed and shook her head. "Why? What's he said to you?"_

_"Oh, nothing."_

_Esther turned to him. "You know, you're such a bad liar, Andrews."_

_"Just a little birdie told me that he, uh, had a surprise for you for when we return back to base," Andrews commented with a smirk._

_"Oh, really? And did this little birdie tell you not to say anything to me?" Esther smirked, with a shake of her head._

_"You know what I'm like, Williams. I get too excited," Andrews chuckled as he slowed to a stop. A raised hand in the distance meant for them to hold their positions._

_Silence fell upon the crew as they observed their surroundings for immediate danger whilst those at the front dealt with an issue. Each morning they were sent out to do a full sweep of the area to ensure the safety of the inhabitants of the village, it was mostly checking up on those vulnerable people who were living in the middle of war zones. They offered respect and were respected in return. Families living within the boundary were kind and understood the extra protection. And whilst the village was quiet and peaceful for the most part, the crew knew that could change at any moment. Each mission presented to them often meant a difficult decision to be made, and Esther was just thankful that hadn't happened just yet._

_A second hand was raised, and they were on the move again. Andrews now spoke in hushed tones._

_"You know, you and Kennedy make a great couple."_

_Esther could only blush and shake her head. "We've not actually told anyone about us yet."_

_"Oh, I know. I found out," Andrews smirked, causing Esther to glance at him with a furrowed brow. "That boy talks in his sleep. Just a warning for the future."_

_"You really need to—" she trailed off as another hand was raised and the crew came to a halt. As they fell into silence once more, she could see the urgency of the team before her. Something was happening but she didn't know the severity of it just yet. This was a usual habit with the first few soldiers checking something out and normality usually resumed once the coast was clear._

_She moved to scope the area and saw Kennedy on his knees. Three of their comrades stood around him and it was only when the sun bounced off a reflective surface that she saw what they were dealing with. A young boy, no older than ten years old, was stood with a vest made of explosives. The weight of the responsibility thrust upon him was at an almighty high, and Esther could only feel frustration and confusion at the situation. Her mind was screaming at her but all she could do was to stand and watch as her fellow soldiers took control._

_But it seemed that time slowed then, and as hollered voices surrounded her, she knew what that meant. Desperation and panic rose within the whole team, and then there was just… darkness and heat. It was a blink of darkness, but she knew time worked differently now._

_A bitter wind swept across the area as she lay upon the hot ground. The sky was a profound shade of blue, a calming hue to the true devastation that surrounded her. She felt the pain that overwhelmed her body, burning every part of her like a wildfire spreading quickly. She could feel her life slipping out of her fingers like sand in a warm breeze, fleeting with every pained breath she took._

_And then she felt it._

_A small droplet of rain coming from the sky, but as she blinked against the sunlight beating down directly upon her, she saw no darkened clouds filling the sky and closing around her. As consciousness slipped away from her for a moment, she knew it was only a matter of time before she would become still. And she didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to die out here._

_The bomb had one purpose, and that was to kill and destroy everything and everyone in close proximity to it. Every aspect of it was designed for this very goal, and she wouldn't give it what it wanted. She had seen the expressions on her team's faces as they realised what was happening and that it would be too late._

_The rain began to descend upon her, a light spray of water at first then heavy and more consistent droplets. The cool pattering of rain droplets soothed the exposed skin, but it was only when she lifted her hand up to her face did she realise that the rain was not colourless as she first thought. Dark crimson blood rained down on her body. A gentle pat, pat, pat upon her uniform, face and hands was all she could hear as panic rose within her. Pink mist._

_She clamped her eyes shut as tightly as she could in an attempt to compose herself. She gasped in pain as she attempted to move, her limbs feeling as though they were fused in cement. She quickly checked her condition, the feeling in her legs returning albeit sore and stiff. Taking off her helmet, Esther scanned her surroundings. The bodies of her friends were strewn across the area._

_The feeling to empty her stomach then was overwhelming as her senses returned to her and the smell hit her. Her medical backpack had been pulled from her body in the blast, and she quickly grabbed it as she crawled towards Andrews whose body was still. She reached up to his neck and checked for a pulse. Nothing._

_No. This can't be happening._

_His unseeing eyes met hers and she felt sadness cloud her heart. She closed his eyes with his fingers and laid a respectful hand upon his chest. She crawled towards her other friends and through the smoke, she could see that they were deceased. She checked for pulses and her fears were confirmed. As she was losing hope, she caught sight of him._

_Kennedy was closer to the explosion than anyone else, but it looked as though he'd tried to flee the impending explosion._

_"Kennedy…" she choked against the smoke. "Sam…"_

_A strong arm wrapped itself around her chest, preventing her from dragging her body over to Kennedy. Or what was left of him._

_"He's gone, Williams," Abraham whispered, his presence causing her to crumble. She hadn't heard his team arrive. __"Are you hurt?" _

_Her face was stained with blood, but it wasn't her own. She shook her head as he wiped the blood from her face as best as he could, her eyes remaining on the still bodies of her comrades. The intensity of her job was something that she thrived on, but she dreaded situations like this. It was always something she struggled to grasp, the thin line between life and death. And that would always mean one thing and that was her reality now._

_The demise of her comrades. The loss of her friends._

_"I've got to…"_

_She wanted to break down and cry for the loss of her friends. Every moment she shared with them popped into her mind like a movie playing; celebrations of life and death, of moments of love and defeat, of words of wisdom and fear. As the dust settled and the smoke lifted, she saw the true devastation of the aftermath of the explosion. Ringing in her ears was knocking her concentration and she struggled to hear Abraham as he spoke to her. Her hands shook against him as her mind raced._

_"Williams!" Abraham said, pulling her up to a seated position, but it was a mere inaudible whisper for her. "Esther… stay with me—"_

_Esther could only see the panicked expression on his face as he lifted her from the ground, but the darkness was foreboding and intimidating, and washed over her before she could fight against it._

**.x.**

Daryl sat in silence as he listened to Esther. Her words filled the air around them, and he let them linger for a moment; letting them seep into him. She had lost her comrades in an unsuspecting attack, and she had felt powerless to protect and save them. And he understood then why she was always trying to keep everyone safe, why she went above and beyond for those around her.

"I'm sorry ya had to go through that," Daryl whispered genuinely. "I had no idea. That's why ya care so much about protecting everyone else."

Esther shrugged. "Maybe it is."

"Ya should get some sleep," Daryl told her. "I'll take first watch."

"Did you mean what you said earlier?"

_Ya come back to me, okay?_

Daryl was about to speak when the hollering of his brother caught his attention. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The beast has awoken. I should… go calm him down."

He climbed through the window, leaving Esther outside to her own thoughts. She remained outside for a little while longer, listening intently as Daryl calmed his brother down. He was confused, the sun stroke had well and truly Esther heard him calming down Merle. She shuffled against the wall, lifting Sophia up as she stood, before heading back into the apartment.

She cast one last look outside and swallowed the lump in her throat.

She really wished Abraham was out there somewhere.


	16. 2:4 - Outnumbered

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the love on the last chapter! Reviews are so appreciated.

* * *

Part Two

..

Four

_Outnumbered_

**.x.**

The sun rose in the sky like a canopy of gold; bright amid the blue, bidding the stars to take their nightly rest. As the darkness surrendered, hues of pink and blue shimmered and streaked through the dark charcoal sky. The warmth of the sun settled upon Esther's face as she slept in the armchair, a blanket had been laid on her and her head nestled in the crook of the arm rest. As her eyes fluttered open, she blinked a few times against the sunlight before shielding herself with the blanket.

After a moment, she glanced at the clock ticking away on the wall. It was just before six, and she furrowed her brow as she realised that Daryl hadn't woken her for watch. She noticed the stillness of the room, the calming sounds of morning creeping in through the gap in the window. Her eyes fell on Daryl who sat on the window seat, his observant gaze scanning the streets beneath him, his grip never releasing its hold on his crossbow.

"Hey," she whispered as she stretched, her back cracking in protest.

He looked towards her and offered a small nod.

"You didn't wake me."

Daryl shrugged. "Ya looked comfy… Didn't want to disturb ya."

Esther furrowed her brow and nodded. She pulled the blanket from her, folding it before putting it over the back of the armchair. She stood from the seat, her eyes falling on the sleeping frames of Michonne and Sophia who were settled on the couch and other armchair. She smiled as her eyes fell on the young girl: part of her realising that she wasn't sure if she would ever see her again.

"We should wake everyone and get ready to leave," Daryl said, breaking her from her thoughts. He strode past her without another word, heading into the bedroom where his brother and the two new guys were sleeping. She watched him disappear into the darkness of the room, before she took a breath.

She stood in the calmness of the room for a moment longer, her eyes trailing across the family photographs on the wall. Lilly, Tara and Meghan's entire life was right there for her to see. They had welcomed them into their home when they needed it the most, and now the day had come that they had to leave.

"Morning," Lilly's voice filled the room, an Esther turned to look at her. Lilly noticed her standing in front of the photographs and smiled, moving towards her and staring at them too. "Oh… we had a good life here."

Esther furrowed her brow. "Are you going to miss it?"

"Yes and no…" Lilly replied honestly. "Yes, because this is the place I brought Meghan home from the hospital after she was born, where she learned to walk and talk. And then no, because… I never wanted to stay here for as long as I did. I had plans to move into a house with a garden for Meghan to play in, with an apple tree and a tree house… but when my marriage broke down, it wasn't going to be our reality, you know? This apartment served me, and now… I'm moving on."

"Not the way you wanted to move on but it's something," Esther added to which Lilly nodded.

"Yeah," Lilly smiled. "We have to move on. It's out of our control."

Esther looked back at the smiling faces staring back at her.

"What about you?" Lilly asked, her voice curious. "You ever miss home?"

"I did…" Esther told her. "It gets easier, but I've never felt at home anywhere. I always wanted to travel, to see the world for myself. That feeling of missing home is a feeling I don't think I've ever had."

Lilly furrowed her brow but nodded at her. "You have someone before this thing?"

"No," Esther shook her head, sadly. "I never had time. What about you?"

"No, but I did think about it," Lilly smiled. "Part of me thought that the outbreak happened because I was finally ready to find love again, and the universe has gone 'hell no'."

Esther chortled, running a hand through her hair. "I can assure you that the outbreak didn't happen because of that. It would be pretty messed up if that was why."

"Thank goodness!" Lilly chuckled, before resting a hand on Esther's arm. "I'll go wake the others."

**.x.**

It was decided that Glenn, Michonne, Sophia and Esther would ride with Tara, whilst Meghan, Rick, Daryl and Merle would ride with Lilly. Though the vehicles were cramped, everyone was ready to endure the journey to the quarry. Glenn rode in the front with Tara, whilst Michonne and Esther cushioned Sophia in the middle. As they drove away from the busy streets and ventured further into the country, the gentle hum of the engine was enough to send the young girl to a blissful snooze.

"I'm so glad I didn't draw the short straw," Glenn smirked as he eyed the animated scenes in the car in front of them. Esther shuffled slightly and watched as Merle was flailing his arms about as Daryl tried his best to hit them away. She grimaced with a playful smirk. "I've only known him for an evening, but I understand Daryl's frustrations with him."

"He seems… I was going to say that he seems like a great guy, but…" Michonne began, struggling to voice her thoughts the way she wanted to. "I just feel like he doesn't understand the terms he uses are not nice."

Esther agreed with a hum. "He's outdated, and that isn't an excuse for his language. The amount of times Carol would tell him off for swearing in front of Sophia and Carl…"

"We should introduce a swear jar," Tara interjected with a chuckle.

The car fell into a peaceful silence, and they avidly watched Merle continuing his flailing arm attack in the car in front. The morning whizzed by them as quickly as the trees did, and they had reached the highway quicker than they had all anticipated. As the vehicle in front slowed, with Daryl and Rick motioning for them to leave their vehicle too, Esther found herself looking around at the wide-open space around them.

"We're blocked," Rick told them, as Esther moved to stand in front of the first car, willing the vehicles blocking them to disappear. As Esther allowed her gaze to wash over the cemetery of vehicles in front of her, she felt a ball of anxiety in her chest.

"Rick, Glenn and me are gonna head out and see if we can find a way through," Daryl began, coming to stand beside her. "Reckon we could push some cars aside, try and clear a path for us."

"If we're blocked all the way through then we might have to find another way around," Rick said lowly, knowing that wasn't ideal. But if there was another way, then it would have to be done.

"Ya can babysit Merle for me," Daryl smirked, his eyes meeting Esther's for a brief moment. As her gaze met his, he furrowed his brow and was just about to say something when Rick called out to him.

"We should head out now, see what the deal is."

Daryl nodded, before turning back to Esther. She was already retreating, heading back to the vehicles. She turned back, "Be careful."

He watched her go, just as Rick and Glenn approached him. Rick wore a smirk on his face, as he noticed the exchange between the two of them. "It's nothin'," he warned him, but Rick simply raised his hands in mock surrender.

Esther reached Michonne who was sipping at a bottle of water. She handed her the bottle and Esther took it gladly, taking one big gulp before handing it back to her. Michonne screwed the cap back on it and rested against the side of the vehicle.

"We should check the cars for any supplies," Esther told the others. "See if we can bump up our inventory."

With a collection of nods, they all set out to find things they could claim as their own. Esther searched the vehicles behind them, keeping a watchful gaze on the others in case anything seemed untoward. She knew the adults had their own weapons on them, but she still felt responsible for their safety; it was a definite habit she needed to unpick over time. She watched as Lilly and Tara collected a few extra clothes, rolling them up and sliding them into their backpacks. Sophia found a small rattle, and Esther observed as her face crumpled at the mere sight of it. Michonne was quick to move her away, finding books in the boot instead.

Merle was lying on the ground in the shade, his face covered by his large hands. "If ya find any booze, it's mine."

Esther rolled her eyes at him before she pocketed a swiss army knife, a couple batteries, and a torch. It was a light loot, but she was sure they would come in handy. She returned to the vehicles and took a seat on the bumper of the vehicle beside her. Her thoughts wandered, and she tried to imagine everyone's last moments on this highway: the sense of chaos at knowing they were blocked and had nowhere to go; of knowing that they had no choice but to leave their belongings on the highway and run. Had the dead passed through here? She couldn't know for sure. As much as it was carnage, with vehicles parked haphazardly and in a hurry, there was a sense of peace that filtered through. It was a crazy thought to her that every single person within this city and the entire world would have a different perspective to the end of the world.

"I was hoping you would've recognised me—" a voice came to her right, and Esther was snapped back down to reality. Michonne was standing beside the vehicle, the glint from the sunshine bouncing off the katana blade burning Esther's eyes. "Sophia told me what you did. I just wanted to say thank you."

Esther furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry?"

"You saved my son that night at the safe zone," Michonne continued. "Andre."

The little boy in the car seat. She had seen him in the distance. _The child's eyes were wide and startled._

"Oh," Esther said in disbelief. "You're…"

She slid off the bumper, and reached for her breast pocket, fumbling inside as her fingers felt as though they were made of water. She pulled out the note that she was never without. "My name is Andre," Esther began reading it out loud, her voice soft. "I have a mom called Michonne and a dad called Mike. If you find me, please keep me safe until my mom and dad return."

Michonne's eyes filled with tears and she allowed them to break free. "Sophia told me about you saving my boy that night. How you ran into the crowd once you knew Sophia and her mom were safe…" Michonne's voice broke but she found the courage to continue speaking. "You kept that all this time?"

Esther nodded, her own eyes filling with tears. She was speechless.

"You… you gave him another chance when we failed him," Michonne whispered. "His father left him there to score drugs, thinking he would be safe there with everyone. He always said that someone would watch out for him, that nobody would leave a baby behind. But he did. I asked for forgiveness every day that he was not with me, that I would find redemption, and… I truly believe that's why Sophia came into my life. She told me about Andre, and what you did, what her mom did…"

Michonne closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around Esther who was taken aback by the hug. It was only a mere second that had passed before Esther welcomed the hug and hugged her back. As they pulled apart, Esther smiled at the woman.

"If I know Carol… she would be protecting your son with her whole life, just like way you've been looking after Sophia," Esther told her honestly. Michonne tearfully nodded at her. "We'll find them, I promise."

Michonne returned to Sophia's side as the young girl was telling Lilly, Meghan and Tara an animated story. Esther watched for a few moments before she moved away from the group, pulling the radio from her backpack. She pressed the button, hearing the static for a moment before she began to speak.

"I don't know where you are or if you're still alive, but I just wanted to tell you that… I'm sorry, Abe. I'm sorry for what I did back in that department store. I should've listened to you. I know you were and always have looked out for me," Esther said, her gaze falling on the empty road ahead of her. "I was hurt badly. And there were moments when I thought that I was going to die. But Daryl… he helped me. He was there. He kept me safe and I will never know how to thank him. He didn't have to, but he's been my anchor all this time…"

She trailed off, running a hand over her head to smooth the wayward hair. "I don't know where you are but I'm going to find you. If it's the last thing I do…"

Esther slipped the radio back into her backpack and pulled it onto her back, turning around and coming face to face with Daryl. He shuffled awkwardly from where he stood, as he scratched the back of his neck whilst holding the crossbow to his shoulder.

"We found a way through," he said with a nod.

Esther nodded enthusiastically. "Great… that's great!"

She went to move past him to head back to the others, but a strong hand reached for her and pulled her back, so she was standing in front of him again. He could sense that she wanted nothing more but to escape his intense gaze or the close proximity between them.

"Ya shouldn't apologise for ya actions back at the store," Daryl said after a beat. "I would'a done the same thing."

"I feel responsible for us losing the group back there," Esther whispered, averting her gaze from Daryl's intense stare. "My actions… caused us to be separated from them. And I caused a mom and daughter to be separated as they tried to escape that store… I…"

"Hey, Essie…" Daryl reached for her. "It ain't ya fault. Ya gotta just… not blame yaself for things out of ya control."

"We should head back," Esther said, moving away from him. And this time, Daryl let her go.

**.x.**

Daryl took control of Lilly's car, navigating it through the hordes of vehicles. As Tara followed closely behind, Esther thought back to her small chat with Daryl. She knew he was right. In every sense of the word, she shouldn't be taking blame for things that happened after the events at the store. She wasn't in control of anything that happened; and she had done what many others would have done if they were in her shoes. Tara weaved through the vehicles, following Daryl's movements down to the point, her driving impressing Esther thoroughly.

The younger sister smiled at Esther as she rested a hand on her shoulder once the vehicle stopped, having passed through the heavy blockage. Daryl exited the first vehicle and motioned for Esther to exit the vehicle. She furrowed her brow and headed out, closing the door behind as Daryl motioned for her to.

"There's an RV up ahead," he told her, as her gaze followed the direction of his outstretched arm. "We should take a look."

Esther nodded, shielding her eyes against the harsh sun. "How long until we reach the quarry?"

Daryl chewed at his lip. "I don't know. Wasn't plannin' on getting blocked on this highway. We could get there by sundown or we'll have to find shelter for the night and head their tomorrow mornin'."

"Okay…" Esther turned back to the vehicles, eyes watching them intently. "Let's try for the former."

Daryl hummed before heading back to his vehicle to retrieve his crossbow. Esther pulled out her knife and motioned for the group to stay.

The RV was parked sideways, its bumper facing the once heaving road beneath it. It was clean amongst the dust and dirt of the highway, a sparkly diamond in the midst of complete chaos. Esther moved towards it cautiously, her knife gripped tightly in her hand. Her eyes met those of Daryl who nodded at her to proceed; he was ready with his crossbow in case a walker decided to ambush them. She reached for the handle, her gaze falling on the startling amount of bullet holes denting the exterior. Esther released a breath as she pulled the door open, awaiting an assault from the deceased but getting nothing but silence.

Esther motioned that she was venturing inside, her footing cautious on the steps, her body in control. Daryl observed as she moved swiftly inside, how she checked either side of the RV, her eyes scanning the contents of the seemingly empty RV. She grabbed the handle of the bathroom, pulling it gently, and meeting nothing but an empty, echoey bathroom. After a moment, she stepped out, shaking her head.

"Nothing," Esther told him, to which he nodded.

"This ain't friendly fire," Daryl surmised, his calloused hands running along the bullet holes along the side of the vehicle. "Whoever did this had heavy machinery."

"Could be military grade but…" Esther trailed off. "They wouldn't attack an innocent vehicle. Whoever did this had one motive."

"To run them off the road," Daryl finished for her.

Esther nodded, her eyes narrowing. She felt unsettled, suddenly aware of how open they were. "This could be a trap… and we could've walked right into it. We're sitting ducks."

Daryl sensed her urgency and nodded. "Ya follow close behind me, yeah? We gotta get away from here."

With Daryl behind one wheel, and Esther behind the other with Tara agreeing to hand over the driving to her. They drove for another hour before they came to a stop in a quiet neighbourhood with the intention to stretch their legs and swap vehicles if they wanted to.

"Why don't we settle in one of these houses? We're all exhausted and hungry," Rick suggested. Daryl threw an uncertain glance in Esther's direction as she scanned the street. When she met his eyes, she shrugged.

"It wouldn't hurt," Esther agreed. "We can search the houses, find which one is in better shape, make sure it isn't infested."

Daryl nodded. "Okay."

"That's settled then," Rick nodded, noticing the relief on the others faces. "Who wants to search the houses?"

Hands were raised in the air, and it was decided that Tara, Michonne, Rick and Daryl would go ahead and search. Esther would remain outside on watch with the others. As Esther waited outside, she listened as Sophia and Meghan sat underneath a tree talking animatedly.

"It's so lovely to see the innocence of a child," Lilly said, her thoughts wandering. "I was so worried, you know, about the change this whole outbreak would have on Meghan but seeing her now… with Sophia, it's like… she's a child again."

Esther offered her a reassuring smile. "You forget sometimes that this has affected other people."

"You really do," Lilly agreed with a slow nod. "Children deserve to have a childhood like we did. And it sucks that it's been robbed from them."

"But we can try and make a childhood for them again," Esther told her. "It won't happen overnight, but we can only try our best to find the best place for them to grow up, safe and loved, and without the fear of whatever is out here."

Lilly wiped a tear away. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

Esther patted her on the shoulder, words failing her then. Esther never knew how to take compliments. "We've got to stay positive. Even if the whole world is against us."

The rest of the group returned then, exiting the house a little bloodier and more dishevelled than before.

"Ya okay, lil' bro?" Merle asked, noticing a blood streak on Daryl's face.

"Yeah," Daryl said quickly. "Just… a lot of walkers we didn't expect locked in one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Esther and the others nodded, filing into the house. As Rick and Glenn showed the others around, Esther remained outside, her watchful gaze observing the street and houses around her. The houses stood together in all seasons, feeling the rain and sunshine just the same. A white picket fence lined the house, square bays with large windows, an asphalt drive with a garage near the rear; identical to the other houses that lined the street. As the sun was setting, its soft pink hue descending upon them with the sun hanging lower in the sky now, she turned to observe the house. She watched the others mill around, exploring each room and talking animatedly at the others. But she stood there in silence. The walls had heard pain throughout the years, the unspoken tears, and they had heard laughter, too. The walls lived and breathed generations, and even after everything that had happened and the house had stood empty since the beginning of the outbreak, it was harbouring them just the same.

Her eyes met those of Daryl's as he passed by the open door, his brow furrowing for just a flash as he noticed her still outside.

"Ya okay?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

Esther found herself nodding. "Yeah, kinda. I'm just… thinking about home."

He offered her a short nod. "There's a storm comin'," he said, looking out at their surroundings. "Don't stay out too long and don't stray too far."

"Yes, boss."

Daryl smirked, shaking his head. He met her gaze one last time before the house engulfed him. Esther looked towards the sky, seeing the looming dark cloud above her. She headed inside and closed and locked the door behind her; her gaze falling on the people settling themselves in for the evening.

Mattresses had been taken from the bedrooms and lined the floors in the living room with blankets and duvets found in closets and in drawers. Sophia and Meghan were sat on the couch reading and talking; Glenn and Rick were in the kitchen scouring the cupboards for food; Lilly and Tara were searching for medical supplies and first aid kits; Merle was already snoozing on the armchair; Michonne was glowering at him as his snores filled the room harshly. Daryl kicked at his brother's boots and silenced him before settling on the window seat. Esther came to sit beside Michonne, casting her gaze on the children giggling together.

Lilly entered the room, arms laden with food and laid down the options on the coffee table. "We've got quite the selection."

"Peaches, beans, vegetable soups, peanut butter, you name it," Tara said excitedly, settling down beside the coffee table. She organised the cans neatly on the surface, beckoning everyone to find what they want. A few chose the peaches, a few chose the beans, and they planned to get the apples from the apple tree outside in the back garden to have with the peanut butter.

After everyone had claimed their dinner for that evening, they went back to what they were doing.

"Uh, guys?" Glenn's voice came from upstairs. "You might want to see this."


	17. 2:5 - Dancing Under Red Skies

Part Two

..

Five

_Dancing Under Red Skies_

**.x.**

The house—it seemed—was not meant to be.

The dead crept out of the shadows, ambling aimlessly in the street. Daryl counted a dozen to his left and double that to his right. They were coming from somewhere, and for something. He chewed his lip as he knew they needed to spring into action and get away as quickly as they could. The vehicles were parked on the street for a better exit, if needed. Esther was watching from the window in the living room, aware of the dead stumbling pass the windows, their shadows darkening the already dark room.

"Do we stay here?" Tara asked, her voice tense. Her gaze was fixed on the kitchen windows as more dead entered the rear garden.

"We can't," Daryl confirmed, casting his gaze on the worried faces of the group. They had just settled in, trying to make the house their home for the night, and now it was ruined. "We can get out to the cars before they get to us. We drive back the way we came, alright? We ain't takin' no chances, you got that?"

"We don't stop moving, okay?" Esther continued, watching as Daryl nodded. "We keep driving, even if it means driving through them."

Tara paled at that but nodded. As everyone gathered their supplies up, collecting the cans of food found in the cupboards, Daryl motioned for Esther to come to him. She closed the gap between them.

"You told me there was a storm coming," Esther commented, her gaze moving from his face to the sky outside and watching as rain lightly splattered against the window. "You sure about this? You sure about leaving this place in _that?_"

"We gotta," Daryl told her with a sigh. "We ain't safe with no protection on the doors and windows. A small noise will cause them to lick their lips and start chantin' for their dinner."

"I've not heard that before," Esther smirked, placing her hands on her hips. "Okay. We get everyone out sharpish."

Esther moved to leave but was pulled back by Daryl. "You be safe out there," he told her, his cobalt eyes searching hers.

"You too," Esther nodded at him once. And with one fleeting glance, and a hand that lingered in his a little longer, she left him to retrieve the others.

**.x.**

They raced towards the vehicles quickly, their gazes fixed on both the walkers that were surrounding them and the cars parked close by. Esther and Daryl led them to their respectful vehicles, with Tara and Daryl being the designated drivers of each. As Esther pulled open the doors and watching as the others filed into the back and the front, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

The rain was becoming heavy now and the sky was moody and sullen with thick brooding clouds battling against the remaining embers of daylight.

And it was only when a scream erupted did she understand why she was feeling unsettled and unnerved: Meghan had been separated from the group.

**.x.**

The dead were closing in on her, preventing her from being close to her mom. The two cars were a stone's throw away, but as she raced towards the one that her mom was leading her to, the dead had cut her off. There was so many, she thought, as she looked around at the looming figures cornering her. She stumbled backwards, causing her to lose her footing and tumble to the ground. The asphalt grazed her palms and knees, cutting through the fabric of her trousers.

"Mommy?" she called out, her voice being drowned out by the groans and moans of the walking dead. She pulled herself up off the ground, her movements clumsy from her fall, and she winced at the soreness of her hands. The air licked at them, burning the cuts even more. They were pushing her further away from her mom and the others and she was sure she could hear her mom's voice—usually so reassuring and soft—with a hint of fear in it. She had never seen her mom be scared, and if she had then her mom was good at hiding it from her.

She felt the air being knocked out of her as panic settled deep in her chest. She felt as though her whole world—as short as it was—beginning to cave in, and she wondered if this was it. She wanted to be next to her mother more than anything; to feel her hand, safe and warm, in her own. The monsters were no longer part of her imagination but rather in front of her now, surrounding her, all reaching for her despite her desperately trying to escape their grasps.

Her mind was racing as she tried to imagine herself getting into the back of the vehicle with her mom, trying hopelessly to believe that this wasn't her reality, that _this_ was not happening.

A hand grabbed at her, the rotting flesh grazing against her bare arms. The man was an older gentleman, with stark white hair, unseeing eyes and a suit adorning his body. A small thought popped into her mind as she turned to look at him, all time slowing around her: _Had he been a good man like her grandpa? Had he had children, or even grandchildren? Was he sad when he died? Would she look like that?_

She was so scared; everywhere she turned, there were more and more of them. Snarling, hungry monsters that were trying just as desperately to reach her and devour her as she was with getting away from them. She didn't want to die today; she didn't want to die. Death was all around her and she didn't want to leave her mom.

And so, she closed her eyes, willing for them to disappear and the nightmare to end. She just wanted to wake up and it all be a dream.

But it wasn't a dream and the growls of the dead only grew louder.

But the dead never reached Meghan that evening.

Dull thuds echoed around her, and as she willed for herself to open her eyes, she just hoped it would go away. There was a shout in the distance which seemed to draw the attention away from her for a little while; but she kept her eyes shut. It was only when two strong hands grabbed at her shoulders did she open her eyes and meeting the concerned gaze of Esther.

"We have to run," she told her hastily.

Meghan stared wide-eyed at her. "Mommy?"

"We have to put distance between us and them, okay? We're heading the same way," Esther told her quickly. "We can't fight our way through this to get back to them."

Meghan nodded, her eyes searching for the others, but the vehicles were drowning in the dead. And so, they ran. Away from the others, away from her mom, and away from the dead. The woods swallowed them up, offering them protection from the dangers they had faced but only giving them more in return. They were plunged into darkness with the trees overhead casting shadows upon them. But they never stopped running, no matter how much their legs burned in protest or how their lungs heaved in their chests. Their throats were dry and hoarse, twigs snagged at their clothing and rain soaked them as their feet pounded the ground.

They came to a clearing which offered them some level of protection. Esther couldn't be sure just how long they had been running for, and as she watched Meghan collapse on the ground, she knew it had been a while. It was now dark, the sky plunging them deeper into darkness, which only caused Esther to panic more.

She knew the group would head towards the highway again, and as long as she was heading that way too, she would reach them in no time.

The subtle moans of the dead behind them caused Esther to release a frustrated sigh, but without any light, she couldn't be sure of where they were. Pulling Meghan off the ground, and slipping her hand into Meghan's, they continued running. And they ran and ran until the sun was beginning to come up and their exhausted minds and bodies were ready to give up.

The trees were becoming lesser and lesser as they pushed themselves up the bank, and as the sun was beginning to lighten, the highway was in sight.

But something felt off. As she pulled Meghan behind a large trunk, she could see both vehicles, all doors opened with no one inside or around. She scoured the area, her eyes narrowing at the scene in front of her. Had they come looking for her? Had they—

"Well, well, well, what's it gonna be, huh?" a voice she hadn't heard before filtered into her mind. She moved slightly, her gaze falling on a group of people dressed in black walking around on the highway.

"You ain't takin' them," Daryl seethed, and Esther narrowed her gaze at him just as a loud _crack_ echoed through the empty highway.

Laughter erupted amongst them and she gently pulled Meghan with her, gently lowering themselves to the ground. She saw Daryl recoil against a punch to the face, blood spurting from his nose.

"I don't see you doing shit," the same man hollered, coming face to face with him. "You can't do shit with your hands tied behind your back."

"We're going to take them," another man said. "And we're gonna slit your throats and leave you for the dead. How about that?"

The group remained silent and Esther took a moment to take in the scene properly. The men were all lined up across the road; Daryl, Merle, Glenn and Rick were all on their knees, hands tied behind their backs with multiple wounds now adorning their faces. The women were huddled together, equally tied up.

Esther turned to Meghan and placed a finger on her lips. "I'm going to need you to close your eyes for me and put your hands over your ears, can you do that for me?"

Meghan nodded slowly, her eyes wide and petrified.

Esther rested a gentle, reassuring hand on the girls shoulder, making sure she could see anything. She rested on her stomach, pulling her rifle out in front of her and resting it against the ground. Once she was sure Meghan was okay, she closed one eye to focus on her targets.

**.x.**

"We have a place for you all," the man who introduced himself as Matty told them, his eyes moving across the faces of the women. Daryl could sense that the women were disgusted as they took in his appearance; he didn't have the charm to whisk them away from a life on the road nor his appearance match his promise to them. Daryl noted how grimy he looked; the slack, greasy hair that hung in front of his face, the browning and decaying teeth that he was snarling at them instead of smiling at them, and the dirt that stained his skin didn't seem to match up with the promise of everything they've been looking for.

"We can show you a goo—" another one called Harvey began but his voice jolted to a stop.

A gunshot echoed throughout the surrounding area and the women watched in shock as the man dropped dead, a bullet wound protruding from his forehead, right behind the eyes. His unseeing eyes stared at Michonne who wanted nothing more than to kick his head away, to get away from his now unseeing gaze.

"Who the fuck did that?!" another one who had been standing beside their own vehicle now hollered, his weapon raising as he searched the area. But it seemed he was looking in all the wrong places, as Daryl's eyes crept along the treeline before he spotted her in the foliage.

Their eyes met and his breath escaped him.

She lifted her finger to her lips, and he gave her a miniscule nod that only she could acknowledge. He blinked a few times, watching as her eyes never left his as he filled her in on the things that had gone down whilst she was away: _hands bound; going to kill us men; five of them but they speak of more. _

A rain of bullets descended upon Esther and Meghan, and the former placed her hand over the young girl's mouth to silence the frightened screams. The bullets were a little too close for comfort for Esther, but she remained poised and ready to strike when she got the go ahead. The men were down one now, and Esther, as the world became silent around them once more, knew she had to move quick.

"Keep your eyes closed for me," Esther whispered into Meghan's ear and she felt the girl nod her head. "I'm right here."

Esther moved back into position, holding the gun to her and focusing on her target. Another shot fired and Matty faltered, his head almost spinning as she took her shot. He collapsed to the ground and Daryl worked harder to try and escape his restraints. He could feel the cord slicing through his wrists, but he felt powerless.

As Esther erased everyone from her peripheral and focused solely on the last three men who were truly losing their minds as they realised they were unable to see where the bullets were coming, she took note of the sound of another vehicle in the distance.

"Let's just kill them all, man. This ain't worth shit."

As one of them closed in on Daryl, a large blade glinting in the sunshine, Esther felt the lump in her throat begin to strangle her. Daryl was still struggling out of his restraints, but he wouldn't be quick enough. Esther aimed, knowing it would be harder now with the man in close proximity to Daryl. One wrong move, one slip up, and Daryl was as good as dead. The other two men closed in on Merle and Rick.

Esther felt panic rush through her, but she steadied her hand and she silenced the worried voice in her head and shot.

One by one.

Three men dropped to the ground dead in quick succession; and her eyes met Daryl's once more. He offered her a nod of thanks, and she slipped out of the treeline with Meghan clinging to her. She pulled her knife out of its sheath and began to slice through the restraints, the black ties falling to the ground.

"There's a vehicle coming," Esther told them quickly.

Rick furrowed his brow, watching the road ahead with worry etched in his face. "You think it's them?"

"No clue," Esther shrugged. "But we can't afford that chance."

The group nodded as she cut them free. But the sound of a vehicle approaching quickly caught their attention, with Esther stopping her movements. She had cut four free: Michonne, Tara, Lilly, and Sophia.

"Shit," Esther muttered to herself as she moved towards the dark vehicle that belonged to the men. With her eyes squinting against the bright morning sun, its rich golden light illuminating every dark corner of the sky, she watched as another black vehicle was hurtling towards them. "Shit. You're going to have to hide."

"No… cut me loose," Daryl urged her, his voice stern. "I can help."

Esther's gaze moved from him. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't do this, Esther," Daryl warned her.

"They'll kill you," Esther told him. "I can't have that."

"We'll stay hidden. We'll keep quiet," Glenn pleaded with her.

"You're all going to hide, okay?" Esther told them. "Michonne… cut them loose once you're hidden.

The woman nodded and ushered everyone into the treeline. Daryl, however, remained on his knees. Esther raised her brows at him and shook her head.

"Please… I'm trying to keep you safe," Esther urged with him.

"And who's keepin' ya safe?"

She knew she couldn't argue with him. In the short time that they had been together on the road, she knew him. And she knew he never left anyone behind. They were quite similar in that sense, and maybe that was their biggest downfall.

She moved closer to him until their faces were just an inch away, aware of the ever-approaching vehicle. "I'm really sorry," she whispered to him before she pushed him down the bank and out of view. She heard curses from the shadows, but she silenced them in her mind. She raised her gun, hiding behind the protection the vehicle offered her just as the vehicle's engine cut.

Esther glanced through the window of the stationery vehicle, watching as all four doors opened of the new addition to the highway, and men dressed in similar dark clothing exited the car. As they approached the vehicle on the left, she moved to the right, circling behind the vehicle. She wanted to come from behind them, take them out one by one before they realised what was happening. The quicker it was, the easier it would be for them to get back on track and get as far away from this place as possible.

And she wondered in those moments just how quickly the world changed for people.

Esther closed in on the one trailing behind the others, and she grappled him, moving his neck to the crook of her arm where she choked him as quickly as she could. A bullet whizzed through the air – _too close – _and she moved quickly, feeling the burn as it nicked at the skin on her thigh. She winced and cursed, quickly snapping the neck of the man she had in a choke hold before closing in on the man who shot her. But it seemed she didn't need to worry as the glint of a katana flashed before her and his head was completely sliced from his body.

Michonne offered her a wink before they began to fight their way out. The men closed in on them, but they were just as quick, just as strong and hell, they had everything to lose.

As Esther choked one of the men, another one raced towards her as Michonne's katana was knocked out of her hands. Esther kicked the man in the face, hearing and feeling the crack of his nose against the hard sole of her boot, before she kicked him away so that he stumbled to the ground. She knew she had a few seconds to take out the man in the choke hold before the other one recovered, and so she snapped his neck. He dropped to the ground and so did she, just as the man with the broken nose came for her, his fist trying to connect with her face. But she was too quick for him and he fell forward, his full force in the punch having knocked him off his feet. As she snapped her head back to see where he ended up, the pain in her leg from the skimmed bullet, she noticed that Daryl, now cut free, had tackled the man to the ground.

The man struggled beneath Daryl's weight, his fists having been grabbed and prevented from hitting out, as the rage within the hunter seemed to escalate and with one fatal punch, the man stilled. Daryl pushed himself off the guy, just as the others slid out from the shadows. He pulled his knife out from his trouser pocket and ended the man's chance at reanimating.

"The hell was that?!" Daryl all but yelled at Esther as he bounded over to her. "Ya could'a got ya self killed. Don't ya understand that could'a been a possibility, huh?"

"I was running out of time," Esther almost shouted back, limping backwards as she readied herself for Daryl's closeness. "They were right on my ass. I had to do something!"

Daryl sneered at her, walking away from her and picking up his crossbow. "Ya have a fuckin' death wish, girl."

Esther felt hot tears blind her, but she brushed them away before they could fall and before any of them could see. She limped over to the body with her knife protruding from its skull, yanking it out and wiping it on her leg. She watched Daryl pace up and down as he tried to figure out his anger. Everyone else was watching him with a watchful gaze, observing when to say something and when to stay quiet. Even Merle was keeping quiet, knowing when it was best to keep his mouth shut. Esther shook her head and began to limp away, feeling the need to be away from him.

In that moment, still feeling the burn from the scolding she had received, she wanted nothing more than to leave them behind. To head out on her own. She knew she should've cut him loose, but she had run out of time and she couldn't afford to lose Daryl.

And she wondered if just maybe she had lost him in a completely different way. Her need to protect the others might have cost her his trust.

She allowed as much distance away from him without being too far away and lowered herself to the ground. Her leg was bleeding, the bullet having sliced through her trouser leg, carving out a part of her leg. The wound was a few inches long but nothing life threatening, just sore as hell. Esther bit back a curse, just as Lilly came into view. Her brows were furrowed as she saw the blood to Esther's hands as she placed pressure on her thigh to stem the bleeding.

"He's just… worried," Lilly whispered to her as she began to rummage through her backpack for gauze.

"I had it under control," Esther said, her gaze low to the ground. She could feel the heat of his anger radiating from Daryl.

"I know, but he could only see you out there on your own," Lilly explained to her. "He probably felt powerless to help. He seems like the type of guy who always wants to help and would do anything to help."

Esther gave her a nod and wincing as Lilly cleaned the wound. "I didn't have time to cut him loose. They would've shot him dead if they had seen him. He wouldn't have been able to defend himself with his hands tied behind his back."

"I think he understood that as well," Lilly lowered her voice, now aware of the stares coming from the others. "His anger isn't directed at you, he's angry at himself."

Lilly helped Esther to her feet and waited until she had put weight on her leg before she moved away from her. "I just… thank you for what you did for Meghan," Lilly continued, her voice breaking. "I thought I wouldn't see her again. And you were there for her. Thank you."

Esther nodded at her, accepting the hug that Lilly gave her. And once she was sure Esther could hold herself up without support, Lilly offered her a nod before returning to the others. She remained where she was for a little longer, not entirely ready to head back to the group just yet. Esther observed Rick, Glenn and Daryl drag the bodies of the men out of the middle of the road and down the bank where they had been hiding just moments before.

And she wondered, as her gaze fell on the group, whether it was time to move on. She thought about Abraham and wondered where he was; whether he was still in the area or if he had begun his journey to Washington. The group were strong enough for her to leave them behind; with all of them filling a role that would benefit them as a team. They were capable of protecting themselves and others, and they all got along well.

Her gaze fell on Daryl and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as her eyes met his. His brow was furrowed and all traces of the anger she had seen on his face, contorting his features in a way she had never seen before, were no longer there. There had been moments where she wondered if maybe she was in love with him. The time they had spent together had allowed her to get to know the real Daryl and not the one who was always kept in his brother's shadow.

She shouldered her rifle and moved her gaze from him. The heat from his stare still lingered on her and she felt her stomach drop.

The group would be okay, she thought. They were all survivors in their own right; they just didn't know their own strength. And maybe her departure from them would be good for them in the long run. She wanted to believe that her departure from the group would save them.

And so, she turned and walked away.


	18. 2:6 - Revolving Door

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, favourites and follows! It means a lot!

So this chapter sets up a different route that I'm taking, and I'm really excited about it. And I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Please leave a review, they are greatly appreciated!

* * *

Part Two

..

Six

_Revolving Door_

**.x.**

"Ya really leavin' us?"

Daryl's voice usually would've brought her to a stop, but she kept moving. The pain in her leg was excruciating and she knew if she came to a halt, she wouldn't be able to move again. His voice was a stone's throw away from her; and she knew he would be able to close the gap between them in just a couple strides. Esther kept quiet and kept plodding on with a wince, her gaze remaining on the empty road ahead.

"Ya givin' me the silent treatment now, huh? I ain't worthy of an answer or to talk to?" Daryl asked. "Ya really gonna leave without sayin' goodbye to any of us?"

Esther came to an abrupt halt and turned around. Daryl's footsteps slowed.

"Ya don't just get to come into my life to just leave without a word."

She composed herself, running a hand through her hair. "I need to move on, Daryl. I have to find Abraham. He's out there somewhere. And you guys… you can all manage. You're a good team together. I'm not meant to be part of this group—"

"—bullshit," Daryl scoffed.

"And maybe," Esther continued, ignoring his comment. "It's time for me to move on."

Esther turned around before she could see Daryl's face fall and carried on walking. Daryl watched her limp away from him before continuing behind her. He jogged a few steps, reaching for her hand to slow her down but she quickly yanked her hand away from him.

"You know," Esther began, slowing. "I'm not apologising for what happened back there. You can yell, you can scream, you can curse at me… but I will _never_ apologise for what I do. This was who I was before you, and this will always be who I am. I'm trained to protect people."

"I know," Daryl told her. "I just—"

"No. I get to talk," Esther told him. "You can be angry, sure. But understand this… I've had to fit in all my life and then I met you, and you were the first person who didn't expect anything from me. You just saw me and that was enough. And now…"

"I ain't good with my emotions," Daryl said quickly. "I saw ya out there and I… couldn't do anything. Ya came to our rescue, and if ya were a minute later then… I wouldn't be here. I just… I got scared because ya had to take them on by ya self and I couldn't protect ya."

Esther watched as his face faltered. She lowered her gaze and readjusted her stance. "I can handle myself. Maybe… I'm too much for you all. You can all get away from this place, head to the quarry like you planned to."

Daryl stepped forward, shaking his head. "I ain't leavin' this place without ya."

"Maybe we'll find each other again, maybe we won't," Esther continued, taking a step back. "But I know I've got to move on. Because if I don't, I never will—"

Daryl cut her off by pressing his lips against hers ever so gently.

He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his calloused thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. Unexpectantly, his other hand drifted to her waist. It settled there for a moment before he pulled her closer, and she inhaled sharply. Her chest was pressed against his and it was only then that they both realised the height difference between them. She splayed her hand against his hard chest, intending to push him away, but instead she left it there. She felt as though her whole world was being set on fire; his kiss lighting every dark corner of her heart.

Though it was brief and overwhelming, she pulled away. Esther hesitantly looked up at him, the swirls of emotion within her urging her to close the gap once more and kiss him again. The kiss had obliterated every thought they had, eliminating any fear and any trace of anger and frustration within them. Daryl searched her eyes as he savoured the taste of her kiss.

She had kissed him back. He had thought she was pushing him away, but she hadn't. She had kissed him with the same passion that he kissed her with. And he felt himself unravelling; stealing the words that he wanted to tell her in that moment.

"I can't lose ya," he whispered, aware of how close they still were. "I'm sorry… shouldn't have gotten mad with ya. I was scared."

She was the one to kiss him this time. But the kiss ended abruptly as Daryl moved his lips away from her.

"There's people behind ya," he whispered slowly, and Esther furrowed her brow, her eyes meeting his. "Ya ready?"

She offered him a slight nod, before they moved in sync, their weapons aimed at the two people. A balding man in his early sixties and a blonde woman in her early thirties raised their hands up immediately, their eyes widening in shock. Daryl could feel the fear radiate from them, he could feel it almost strangling them.

"We aren't here to hurt you," the woman spoke quickly. "We just… we heard talking and…"

"Please don't shoot us," the man pleaded with them. "I'm Dale, and this is Andrea. We just… we heard talking and came to investigate."

Esther watched as the woman introduced to them as Andrea stared at Dale as if urging him to tell them something. She furrowed her brow at that.

"What is it?" Esther asked, her voice harsh. "You thinking about ambushing us?"

"No… no, nothing like that," Dale reassured her. "It's… we…"

"Spit it out," Daryl hissed.

"We thought you were them," Andrea was the one to speak, her gaze falling on them both. She watched as they furrowed their brows in confusion, tilting their heads slightly as they tried to understand where she was going with what she was saying. "Have you seen a young woman, blonde, a little taller than me, she was wearing a mermaid necklace?"

Esther narrowed her gaze at Andrea. "We haven't, but… what do you mean by you thought we were them?"

Dale was uncomfortable, his gaze failing to meet Andrea's. "It was all my fault. I… they shot at my RV and… I should've been watching her… I should've fought harder."

"What do ya mean?" Daryl interjected, uneasiness rattling against his chest. The men that had ambushed them had ambushed them for one reason: to take the women and children away for a 'better' life.

"They told us about a compound they had," Andrea explained to them, her voice breaking with emotion. "An arena, just outside the city. They told us we could join them; that we would be safe there, but under one condition."

"Ya had to die," Daryl finished for her, his eyes falling on Dale who nodded.

"We refused their offer and well…" Andrea told them, and sniffled. "They shot up the RV we had, and we hid… but they came back and took her in the night."

"I'd fallen asleep," Dale whispered. "I wasn't looking out for her."

"You'd been up for forty-eight hours straight, Dale," Andrea reassured him, though there was hurt evident in her voice. "We didn't think they would come back."

Esther nudged Daryl and threw her gaze onto the group behind them. He nodded, and she sighed. "We know _of_ them," she began. "We… ran into them. They promised us the same, but they weren't too friendly with us either. But…"

Andrea's gaze fell on Esther's bloodstained hands and her injured leg. "There's more of them. They patrol the streets, collecting people. We saw another group take another young girl; she must've been a few years younger than Amy."

"Ya said they told ya about their compound?"

Dale nodded. "A deserted arena."

"Ya think ya can mark it on a map for us?" Daryl asked, pulling the folded and creased map from his back pocket.

"If they're operating around this area, it can't be too far," Esther commented to which Daryl nodded. Dale pointed towards an area on the map and Daryl marked it down. "We've got to make sure we can avoid them as much as we can but also try to be aware of their movements."

"What have you got planned?" Andrea asked, worriedly.

"If what you say about this group being as large as they are, we need to be prepared in case anything happens," Esther told them, aware of Daryl's burning gaze upon her skin. "We have women and children here. We've got to watch our backs whilst we get your sister back."

**.x.**

"Ya really think this is a good idea?" Merle's tone was harsh as his eyes narrowed at Esther. She was resting against the side of the vehicle, her leg causing her some discomfort the longer she stood on it. She knew some of the group wouldn't be up for the rescue mission to retrieve Andrea's sister from the men they had misfortune of stumbling across that morning, but she hadn't expected all of them to be as hesitant.

Esther shrugged, her gaze falling on Andrea and Dale who stood a stone's throw away from them. "Imagine if it was Daryl," she began, her voice low enough so that Andrea and Dale couldn't overhear them. "Wouldn't you want someone to help you find him?"

"He can get himself out of shitty situations," Merle retorted. "One time, our ol' pa drove us out into the middle of nowhere and made us find our way home. Wanted to go out for a few hours but didn't want the neighbours to call the cops on him again for leavin' two kids alone at home. Found each other a couple hours later an' let's just say we were sat at home eatin' a meatloaf sandwich when he came home from his nightly drinkin' fun times with all his ladies."

"We had a great time," Daryl added with a reassuring smirk. "It wasn't as bad as ol' Merle makes it sound."

"Right…" Michonne interjected with a furrowed brow. "Can I ask… how in the hell are we going to find her sister?"

"They told us the men mentioned an arena," Esther shrugged.

"Oh, I know the one," Tara said with a nod, motioning towards Lilly who also nodded. "We used to go and see some shows there. It's… I'm guessing it would be quite overrun around that area."

"It isn't," Dale's voice filtered into the conversation and the older man found a place for himself in the makeshift circle. "We were heading that way and they spotted us. Followed us out of the city, hounded us for days wanting Andrea and Amy to join them. They have it pretty much set up; guards on the front with weapons, a patrol every hour to kill the dead… it's unsettling how quickly they've set it up to be a thing, you know? It's what? A couple of weeks since the outbreak began, and the world is so different now."

Esther pondered over his words for a moment. And he was right. Whilst they were merely surviving each day, wondering where in the hell they would go to next, there were people who seemed to be thriving in the pure desolation of the world. They had changed in a way, but she had to wonder; people didn't adapt that quickly to this new world. Maybe, just maybe, there were monsters waiting to be set free and the end of the world had given them a stage.

"We could maybe go and check it out, keep ourselves hidden and see what's going on," Esther suggested to them, seeing the collection of worried faces staring back at her. "We can be in and out quickly. Just to see what we're dealing with."

"This is _my_ sister," Andrea interrupted vehemently. "I thought I'd lost her for good. That I wouldn't ever see her again. And then we found you guys, and I feel like this could be how she returns home to us, to me. I just need you guys to want to help. And if you don't, then I'll go in by myself."

"You won't come out," Dale told her with a sigh. "No one comes out of that place."

Andrea sighed. "Then I live with her in there."

"An' that's what ya want?" Daryl asked, his brow furrowing.

"If it means I get to be with her then yes," Andrea returned. "I would do anything for my sister."

Esther threw a look to Daryl, and he understood the sadness in her eyes. He nodded at her; chewing the skin around his thumb. Esther turned to Andrea, looking between her and Dale. "You won't have to do that. We'll… get her back. We'll find her."

**.x.**

The drive into the city was a slow one, with the group being cautious of what they could stumble across or who could be following them. It was decided that they would hide the vehicles nearby, just out of the city, in order to protect them from any unwanted attention lurking about. A group would remain by the vehicles, and the others would head into the city to check out the arena. They would take note of the any movement, any changes, and whether it was even worth the trouble, as Merle put it.

Andrea was adamant that she would be with the group that checked the place over. And so, it was decided that Dale would remain with Merle, Glenn, Tara, Lilly, Meghan and Sophia. Andrea would head into the small city with Daryl, Michonne, Rick and Esther. As Daryl threw an uncertain look at Esther's condition, she simply raised her eyebrows at him as if to challenge him. He raised his hands up in mock surrender and with a smirk, tapped his shoulder against hers as he came to stand beside her.

Once Merle was forced to pinky-promise Michonne with regards to be protecting the others with his life, the group were ready to go.

The walk into the city, however, didn't take as long as they first thought. With Esther's limp only causing her some discomfort, speed seemed to be on her side as she found a way to accommodate her injury. Esther and Rick took the rear with Andrea and Michonne in the middle and Daryl at the front.

They reached a clearing and Daryl raised his hand in the air, bringing them to a stop. The others grouped around him, observing the street around them and watching as men moved around outside the arena. Dale had been right in saying that they took turns on watch, with guards on every corner, patrolling the streets in front of the stadium.

"There ain't no way we're gonna get inside that place without them spotting us," Daryl whispered, his voice low and his gaze never leaving the guards.

Andrea's heart sank. "What do you suggest?"

"We could split up?" Rick suggested, receiving a glare from Daryl. "Hear me out. We… split up into two groups, right? One goes one way and the other goes another way. Then, we see if we can take them out."

"That would be suicide," Esther muttered with a shake of the head. "We could separate into two groups; I agree with that. Michonne, Andrea and I; and the both of you."

Esther observed the unspoken worry flash across Daryl's face, but she never uttered a word.

"That sounds doable," Andrea agreed with Esther.

"We ain't doing no crazy shit, alright?" Daryl warned, his eyes flicking to and remaining on Esther. "We watch, we observe, we don't move unless we have to. And only if we have to. We make one wrong move, we're all as good as dead."

The others nodded, agreeing with everything he said. They moved into their places and they watched the arena like hawks. It wasn't long before Andrea grew fidgety and restless, the urge to save her sister becoming overwhelming with each passing second. Esther reached out to her in an attempt to calm her, to soothe any worry she was experiencing and feeling but it seemed that Andrea had surpassed her limit.

Andrea's eyes grew wide and she moved closer, her eyes straining to see.

"It's him," she whispered. "He was the one to take Amy that night."

Esther and Michonne moved closer to look, seeing a man walk out of the large bolted doors that was heavily armed. She observed the man; longish brown hair, leather trousers and jacket, and the distinctive feature of an eyepatch. He walked around with no weapons upon him which seemed to unsettle Esther to her very core.

"You're sure?" Esther asked, her voice low.

"He has my sister…" Andrea said, her voice growing more fragile. "He took her without a second thought. He just took her… she's in there…"

"Andrea—" Michonne reached out for her but it was too late. She had slipped through Michonne's grasp and was running into the street.

Esther felt panic wash over her, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She bolted towards Andrea, ignoring the jolt of pain that engulfed her whole body. Michonne was close behind them, coming to stand beside Esther and holding her up.

The man watched them with raised eyebrows. His eye searched every inch of their bodies which only seemed to make Esther queasy. His gaze rested on them a little longer than either one of them was comfortable with. He looked towards the street around them, seeing nothing untoward except for the three women that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

He raised his hand in the air as he heard the collection of weapons being aimed at the three women.

"Are you… alone?" his voice dripped with authority, but Esther had met his kind before.

Esther could feel the burn on the back and moved her hand behind her back, cautious of the attention they were receiving. She motioned for them to retreat. She hoped Daryl and Rick could see her, but she was trying to keep them away from this place. If they were caught too, then they would have failed. Andrea had made the mistake of reacting on impulse; and now they had to dig themselves out of the hole she had made for them by themselves. She couldn't drag Daryl and the others into this mess.

"Yeah… it's just us…" Andrea told them. And Esther knew what they had to do.

They would have to become a trojan horse and destroy them from within.


	19. 2:7 - I've Got This Friend

Author's Note: A quick update here, but one that I'm really excited to share! The plan for this chapter was huge and when it came to writing it all, it literally reached over 10k words and so I had to break it up into three parts and I also changed a few little things to make it work. I'm really happy with how it turned out!

We're also introduced to two new characters. One who is completely OC and one who we've met in the show. I've decided to shake it up a little!

I really hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think!

Also, if you have any storylines from the show that you really enjoyed and you would like to see how Esther would cope with them then please tell me and I'll try and work them into this story!

* * *

Part Two

..

Seven

_I've Got This Friend_

**.x.**

The man introduced himself to them as Philip, the right-hand man of the leader. With a smirk that unsettled Esther to her very core, he welcomed them without another word which only seemed to cause the alarm bells in her head to ring violently. Every part of her wanted to drag the other two women out of the place, but she had to see this through. Andrea was desperate to find her sister, and she understood the urgency. If it was her sister, she would go to the ends of the earth to find her and make sure she was safe.

The corridor reminded Esther of something out of a horror movie; the winding maze of corridors causing a dull ache in her head. The narrow passage was lit up with emergency lights, deep orange shades illuminating against the concrete stone walls, casting shadows of wonderous beings upon the wall. Posters and photographs of past famous faces to ever set foot in and perform at the stadium decorated the walls, and Esther found herself wondering just how many of them still walked the earth now, having escaped the claws of death. Singers, bands, sports stars, all beamed down at her, which only caused her anxiety to peak.

Andrea was walking closely behind Philip who was taking the lead, as Michonne and Esther walked behind them with the former helping Esther with her balance, whilst two heavily armed guards took up the rear. They were walking for a while, with Esther and Michonne sharing a look as they both wondered whether he was just leading them along a merry dance. Philip, not even a minute later, pulled to a halt in front of a large double door, and turned to face them.

"One word of advice," he began, a sickening grin forming on his lips as his one eye searched the faces of each woman. "Listen to our leader. He is a man who requires respect, and you will give him that. You may never know when you will need him to bail you out."

He pushed open the double doors without another word to reveal an executive suite where Esther could only imagine once held extremely important board meetings or hosted events for the rich and famous. But what caught her eye most was the figure of a man standing in front of floor to ceiling windows that looked out the stadium below them. From where the three women stood, the people that milled around were as tiny as ants. Esther narrowed her gaze at the man illuminated by the bright lights that beamed down on the people below him.

"Please, take a seat," the man said, his back still turned to them. "Philip, leave us be."

Esther noticed the scowl—one filled with such anger—flash across Philip's face for a split second. As quick as it had appeared, it had dissolved into a fake smile. Without another word, Philip nodded mostly to himself before motioning for the guards to leave with him.

As the door clicked itself closed and signalling that they were alone now, the man turned around. Esther observed him as he moved to take the seat opposite them, his gaze falling on each of them for longer than they were all comfortable with.

"You will all do very well here, I can assure you of that," he began, his course voice unsettling Esther immediately. And that was it; that was how quickly it was to completely sign your life away to them, it seemed. His dark hair was streaked with grey, peppered mostly at the front on his hairline; a handle-bar moustache decorated his face; his green eyes seemed to burn a hole in them as he spoke. "May I ask… how have you come to find us on this fine day?"

Andrea opened her mouth to speak, but Esther beat her to it. This seemed to be picked up on by the leader. "I got injured, we were running and I… snagged my leg against a branch," Esther spoke, her voice feigning vulnerability. "We've been looking for a safe place for a while, and we stumbled upon this and we couldn't believe that this place exists. But we understand if you don't have room for us. To welcome three strangers in one day, it must be a—"

"—a rarity?" the man finished for her, and nodded slowly "Well, yes. But you are fine women, with weapons to match."

Esther found herself nodding, trying so hard to keep the fake smile going. She was aware of the way the man spoke immediately put her on edge; you just couldn't ignore the voice at the back of your head screaming at you to get out of there, and fast.

"I will say this, however—" the man continued. "This place has rules put in place that you must abide by. And there are consequences if you break them. This place has worked for as long as I've been in control of it, and it will continue to thrive. A chink in the armour will not destroy this place. However, you scratch my back and I scratch yours in return. If you behave, you'll be rewarded and thus we will go easy on you."

"Like animals?" Michonne interjects, her jaw tense and eyes dark. The man simply shrugged but never ushered another word.

A knock sounded on the door, breaking through the tense atmosphere.

"Enter," he called out.

The door opened at his command to reveal Philip and the two guards. Philip nodded at him. "It's ready for them, sir."

The man stood to his full height and clapped his hands together once. "Great! Philip, take…" he motioned towards Esther who simply raised her brow at him.

"Esther?"

"Yes, take Esther to the infirmary and get Samson to check her injury out."

Esther stood up and leaned forward, extending her arm out across the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

The man looked towards her hand then back at her, a look of confusion flashing across his face. He moved towards the table, his hand moulding around hers tightly and his eyes almost challenging hers. "It's Simon," he said, flashing a smile.

"Simon," Esther repeated, shaking his hand once before releasing him. _Today isn't your lucky day, Simon. _

Philip beckoned Andrea and Michonne to follow behind the armed guards and head to the area that seemed to be ready for them, whilst Philip waited for Esther to limp out of the room. The guards that led the two women away both looked as if they had never held a gun before in their life, let alone being allowed to dress themselves. Philip directed and navigated Esther down to the medical bay, and she knew he was growing impatient and frustrated with her as he kept stopping and waiting for her to reach him. She smirked as she knew she was doing it on purpose; the one way to see someone's true colours was to test them. Words and actions held so much weight, and it seemed as though Philip wasn't as _nice_ as he portrayed himself to be.

He came to a halt in front of the medical bay that was situated beside the locker rooms. His hard fist pounded against the heavy door. It was a mere second later when the door opened to reveal a tall man with dirty blonde hair, exasperated and annoyed.

"How many times have I told you not to bang on the door like that?"

Philip simply shrugged. "Got another patient for you to see," he said, all but ignoring the doctor. "She's one of you."

He turned on his heel and walked down the corridor, back the way they came. Samson's eyes fell on Esther as she leaned against the door frame, giving her uniform a once over with a nod before he beckoned her inside, and closing the door.

Samson motioned for her to sit on the medical bed in the corner of the room, and she made her way over to it. She took a seat on the edge, positioning herself carefully before lifting herself onto it. Esther remained silent as he collected everything he would need, her observant gaze searching the room.

"How did you do it?" Samson asked, motioning towards the ripped material of her trousers with a nod. He took a seat on a moving stool beside her. "You weren't…"

"Bitten?" Esther raised her brows, shuffling as she pulled her trousers off enough for him to get to the wound. She shook her head. "No."

Samson raised his brows for her to elaborate and she dragged her teeth along her bottom lip.

"One of your groups shot at me."

The colour drained from Samson's face, paling at her words. "You shouldn't have come here. You should've kept walking. This place… it isn't what they portray it to be."

"Yeah, I kinda got that when they tried to kidnap the women and children in my group," she kept her eyes on his, silently challenging him. "Can't say they were that lucky with their attempt."

"You… killed them?"

Esther shrugged. "I did what I had to do."

"But you're still here," Samson challenged her. She was taken aback that there was no surprise on his face at the knowledge that she had essentially killed a convoy of his men.

"You got me there," Esther said, running a hand through her hair.

Samson was quiet for a moment as he inspected her wound. He pulled back the gauze and tape, his brow furrowing for a moment. "Seems to me, someone took exceptional care of this thing before you came here," he commented, as he began to clean the wound. "Still bleeding which is to be expected for the type of wound."

"You don't seem like one of _them_," Esther remarked after a moment.

Samson met her gaze. "That's because I'm not one of them."

"Then how did you get here?" Esther asked. "Philip… he mentioned that I was one of you. Did you serve?"

"You bet I did," he answered with a smile. He busied himself with stitching the wound up. "I was stationed here at the arena at the start of the outbreak. It was a place for testing, in a way. More and more people came here as it was a safe zone, but these people quickly took it over. Simon, Philip, Greg… there are others you haven't met yet. The other soldiers found their voices and either joined them or were… disposed of."

Samson let his words hang in the air, and Esther furrowed her brow. She remained silent, knowing her words would fail her now. She felt nauseous at the thought—and reality, it seemed—of a place like this existing so close after the outbreak.

"How do I get out of this place?" Esther asked, her voice low as she became aware of light footsteps approaching the room.

Samson sat back in his stool, once he was finished patching her wound up. He swallowed the lump in his throat, one that always seemed to strangle him when he thought about what he was involved in. He stood up, moved closer to Esther and whispered in her ear. "Nobody has ever managed to leave this place."

A knock—soft and delicate—sounded against the door and Samson left Esther's side. "Come in," he called out. The door opened and a blonde woman entered the room holding folded clothes in her hand.

"I have some clothes for our new arrival," the girl said, her soft voice filled the room. Her gaze washed over Esther as she laid them on the edge of the medical bed with a smile that never quite reached her eyes. Esther offered a smile back, her eyes falling on something that glinted against the lights that lined the wall around them. And she felt as though the whole world around her was beginning to shake uncontrollably.

_"Have you seen a young woman, blonde, a little taller than me, she was wearing a mermaid necklace?" _Andrea's voice filled her mind then as she was transported back to being on the highway, Daryl's kiss still burning her lips. She had found her; she was sure of it.

The mermaid necklace was shining brightly against the white dress she wore.

_Amy_.

The blonde woman gave her one last look before she turned to leave, and Esther knew she was running out of time.

"Amy?"

The woman slowed to a stop, her hand hovering in the air as she had begun to reach for the handle. She turned slowly; her composure being compromised at the fact that a complete stranger knew her name. Her eyes were wide, panicked almost, as they met Esther's gaze.

"Your sister Andrea…" Esther began just as loud bang on the door sounded, startling all three of them in the room. Samson clenched his fists.

"I can't talk now," Amy rushed, looking towards the door. "Is she… okay?"

Esther nodded quickly. "She's here. She's come to find you. We're here to get you out of here."

Another knock sounded, and Samson was quick to move towards the door. He raised a hand at both Esther and Amy, silencing them instantly, as he pulled the door open. "Again, how many times do I have to tell you to now knock so loud?"

Philip sneered, his eyes falling on Esther on the bed and the folded clothes on the end of it. She watched as his face became red with anger. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"I…" Amy began but Samson cut him off.

"The wound was worse than I thought," Samson filled him in. "I needed to clean it to prevent infection, and then put a few stitches in."

Philip looked towards him. "And will she be okay for duties?"

"Not immediately, but yes," Samson nodded. "Give her a day or two."

"Well it seems I've come with good news regarding that," Philip commented, pushing Samson aside and striding over towards Esther. "You've been bumped up a number, especially in your condition. You're a fighter, right?"

Esther dragged her teeth against her bottom lip. "I can handle myself, if that's where you're going with this."

"You've been bumped up to a one," he smirked.

Esther observed Samson's face drop. The doctor was quick to reach them. "She's injured. I told you she was injured…"

"She can manage, doc," Philip said with a sneer, standing to his full height. Toe to toe, the two men were nearly the same height as each other but it seemed as though Philip believed himself to be a foot taller with the power he demanded from the room. He motioned towards the clothes and Esther. "Get dressed. You don't want to be late."

**.x.**

Esther was led out into main area, a dress—white and virginal—flowing from her body. She was bare foot, the soles of her feet delicate against the rough ground. Philip had walked her out of the bay, down the corridors and down towards the stalls. As he pushed open the doors, she took in the scene around her and she was taken aback, her eyes not knowing where to look first.

There was so much to see, and yet her vision couldn't quite comprehend everything laid out in front of her. The first thing that unsettled her, however, was the cages that she recognised so well. She remembered her first moments when she stepped out of the army truck and saw the set up at the safe zone where she was stationed at. The cages where humans—infected—would reside in until they were transported elsewhere. Now, they held women with numerous numbers that hung around their necks. She understood the army was based here from what Samson had told her, but for a facility to be used in _this_ way was almost incomprehensible.

They stopped in front of a cage and her eyes fell on Michonne who wore the same attire as she did now, and who was now noticeably without her katana.

"I'll be back for you," Philip told her, unlocking the door and almost pushing her inside. With one last glimpse at her, his figure disappeared amongst the guards milling around.

Michonne was seated on the floor, her legs crossed. "It's cosy, isn't it?"

Esther grimaced as she noted her surroundings. "This place is not what I was expecting."

Michonne shrugged. "And all thanks to Andrea here, this will be where we die."

Andrea ran a hand through her hair, avoiding Michonne's gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't kno—"

"I found Amy," Esther announced to them. Andrea's eyes grew wide, her mouth opening in shock, tears threatening to fall.

"Is she okay? Is she safe?"

"I'm guessing so," Esther told them, easing herself to the ground, cautious of her leg. "I couldn't really speak with her but she's okay. There's just… eyes and ears everywhere. We'll talk later about it."

Andrea nodded gratefully, aware of the attention they were receiving. Michonne found herself nodding too, her dark eyes quickly panning the area around them. Eyes from afar met her own and she shuddered internally. Her gaze fell on Esther again, her brows furrowing at the number around her neck. She looked at her own then at Andrea's.

"Why are we all different numbers?" Michonne asked, motioning towards them.

A woman in the cage beside them turned to them, and sighed. "I'm guessing you're all new here, huh? There's a hierarchy here. We all aim to be one of three numbers, that means we get the easy jobs. Less attention from these insufferable idiots."

"What do you mean?" Andrea moved closer to the cage wall.

"Five is laundry," the woman said, motioning towards Andrea's number. "That's the easiest job, the one every single one of these ladies here would kill for. Four is cleaning, which isn't so bad as long as you aren't old, and you can handle yourself when it comes to their requests. The same goes for three, which is cooking; maybe if we're lucky enough these son's of bitches will be poisoned."

Michonne noted that she had the number three hanging around her neck. Cooking was never her forte.

"Two is… let's just say, it's left to the young, attractive ones," the woman continued. "They whisk the girls away at night and they return in the morning. It isn't nice to see, if you know what I'm trying to say."

The three women collectively nodded; with them all feeling nauseous at the prospect of women having to endure that.

The woman's gaze fell on Esther's and she offered the soldier a solemn look. "One is for entertainment…" she began before she faltered.

"What does that mean?" Esther urged.

"You're the main event, sweetie," the woman continued after a moment. "You fight to the death."

Two guards approached the cage then, smirks forever carved into their faces. "Alright ladies, enough chit chat. Five and three, you're coming with us. Your chores are about to start."

Michonne and Andrea stood, with the former resting a hand upon Esther's shoulder as she passed her. The cage was locked behind them and Esther watched as they walked out of sight. Esther took a moment to look around at her surroundings, her hairs on the back of her neck constantly standing on end.

"Hey," the woman they had been speaking to said. "Maybe it isn't all bad."

"What isn't?"

"We have to work like dogs until we die," she began. "You can decide your fate the minute you get out there. Whether you stay alive and fight for your survival, or if you decide to take yourself out. I know what I would do."

Esther stared at the woman, watching as she nodded at her own words. But Esther wasn't quite sure what she truly meant by that.

"I'm Esther," she said, moving her hand through the gaps in the chain.

The woman looked at it before taking it in her own, squeezing it tightly. "Names are meaningless now. I call myself Alpha."


	20. 2:8 - Brave Face

Author's Note: A little warning to say this chapter includes a lot of blood and gore.

Hope you enjoy! And if you do, please leave me a review!

* * *

Part Two

..

Eight

_Brave Face_

**.x.**

Alpha was many things, but a victim was not one of them.

She'd been captured and taken to the arena a short while after the outbreak, having been promised a safe place for her and her daughter to rest their heads for a little while. The arena had been nothing like what she had expected it to be; she had seen it transform to just a few people to it being a thriving with people who believed they were heading to a safe area after literally running for their lives against the dead. What they hadn't realised that some people could no longer be trusted. When she had arrived at the arena that morning with her young daughter held close to her, her gaze had fallen upon the cages and it caused her stomach to turn.

The men were a little _handsy_, she had grown to notice early on. But as she watched from the shadows that more and more women and men were being brought in, with the men being led away almost straight away. When they never came back, she understood what had happened to them. As women and children cried over their missing husbands and fathers, she was grateful that her own husband was no longer around. She had made sure of that.

With the attention no longer on her, she blended into the background, hidden in the shadows which she thoroughly enjoyed. She was way down the hierarchy now; almost invisible to them. She kept herself to herself but like an elephant, she never forgot. Names and faces that should've become blurred with the abuse she had endured were well and truly carved into her mind, and she made sure she remembered every single one of their names as well as their nicknames.

She'd stayed quiet and was almost avoided, but she was defiant in the sense of she knew she was worthy of more. Hell, she'd put her trust in the doctor to smuggle her daughter out of this place in the hopes of a better life for her. It wouldn't be much but at least she was away from the abuse and the eyes of men whose intentions were very clear to her. Alpha had promised Lydia that she wouldn't allow anything nor anyone to hurt her, and they had ended up here. This wasn't the place for a young girl who deserved better.

Alpha had been here longer than she had ever anticipated; thirty-five days and each day felt like a year. She was still no closer to escaping, however, despite her promise to Lydia.

She knew their routine off by heart now. She knew who would be walking past her cage at a certain time of the day; she knew who she could talk to and who she needed to be wary of. The doctor was someone she could trust; and she was grateful for him. He smuggled Lydia out and gave her updates whenever she visited him.

For Alpha, life now was more about getting by. She needed to bide her time for she struck. It had never been the right time, but it was as though her luck had changed for the better when the soldier girl walked in; the hushed voices that spread like wildfire alerting her to the new arrival. There was confusion as to where she was one of them, but as she was led to the cage adjacent to hers, now adorning a white dress like her own, she was just like the rest of them. Unlucky and unfortunate to be swept up and brought here. But she was different to the other women she had come to meet during her time here.

So unlike the others who quickly accepted their new reality, she noticed the way the soldier cast her gaze over every single face within the compound: the guards and the women; almost memorising features about them that others seemed to overlook. She was fascinating in the way she moved; the way she absentmindedly watched the exits, picked up on the routines of the guards, and the way the women were being treated. The soldier picked up on details that even she had missed.

She wasn't like the others and that excited Alpha to her core. She was just like her.

She wouldn't be easy to conform to this place, just like herself. She wouldn't be easy to beat down and mould into the perfect little helper.

"Names are meaningless," Alpha had told Esther, almost nonchalantly. "I call myself Alpha."

Esther, it seemed, accepted that without another word which gave Alpha more time to analyse her from afar. She noticed the way Esther was cautious of her leg and the way she absentmindedly touched it with her palm when her attention would waver. She was injured, Alpha could tell by the way she winced, but she would still be able to defend herself when the time came for it. Which, if Alpha could tell, wouldn't be long at all.

They sorted the weak from the strong very early on, choosing the ones that may cause them trouble as the highest in the hierarchy in a way for the women to prove themselves to the leader. If they were a fighter, you could be trouble. It was a way of processing the new recruits into the best categories. Alpha had started at the same stage as Esther and had made a name for herself as being ruthless and not to be messed with, which gave Alpha the peace she deserved. She was kept in a cage on her own for a reason after she brutally killed her last cage mate with the elastic from her knickers. It was a gruesome affair, but it had proved a point.

"You…" Alpha's voice trailed off as a guard passed them by. Once he was gone, her gaze met Esther's. "You ready for what they have planned for you?"

Esther seemed to notice the darkness in her eyes. "It depends what they have planned for me."

"Let's just say, friend to frien—"

"I'm not your friend," Esther cut her off.

Alpha chuckled darkly. "Okay, from a stranger to a fellow stranger, they will try to destroy you. They will push to the brink of hell and you will have to decide what you do. Are you going to allow them to torture you and force you to lose yourself in the pain, or are you going to drag yourself from the pits of hell and fight your way out of that darkness?"

"Sounds like a typical day at the office," Esther commented, and even though there was no humour in her voice, Alpha began to laugh maniacally.

"You're going to do well," Alpha told her. "But I will warn you… that place you have to go to in order to survive will haunt you for a long time. You will have to become the monster you know you are inside. You might not want to believe you are one, but in there… it will show you who you truly are. It will show you everything you're supposed to be. Are you ready for that?"

**.x.**

Daryl Dixon had believed his luck was over when he stumbled across Hershel Greene and his daughter that night.

When he and Rick returned to the group without Esther, Michonne or Andrea in tow, he had seen the looks on the faces of the others and knew that they had well and truly messed everything up. He had told them that he had tried to reach them all before they were taken but with Rick holding him back and telling him that he wasn't any use to them if he was captured as well, and with Esther giving him a warning to remain where they were, he knew there wasn't anything he could do except bide their time and come up with a plan. He felt useless and powerless.

He could sense the group losing morale, and he wasn't sure what he could do. As he sunk to the ground on the highway, the sound of galloping had caught his attention a short while later. He had grabbed his crossbow that was beside him and aimed it in the direction of the horse, his gaze never moving from his targets. They slowed once they realised there was a weapon being aimed at them, and he watched as the woman look towards the older man.

"Son, we haven't come here to harm," he spoke, but it still wasn't enough of a reason for Daryl to remove his invisible target.

"I ain't ya son," he bit back, venom lacing his voice.

The man wasn't surprised by his comment and simply nodded. "We saw you near that arena. We have been looking for one of our own for a while. My daughter, Beth… she was taken by them. We've been pleading and begging with them for weeks to release her, but they are ignoring us."

Daryl lowered his crossbow and shouldered it.

"We saw them take your people," the woman then interjected. "We know how to get them back but… with just the two of us against them, it was impossible."

"I'm Hershel Green and this is my daughter, Maggie," Hershel introduced himself to them. "My son… he's the doctor there. He was a soldier stationed there when things became the way they are now. He isn't aware of his baby sister having been taken by the very men who took that place over."

"They kidnapped her whilst she was tending to the chickens on our farm," Maggie added. "They came onto our land and took her against her will. They won't stop. But we know how we can get them back, it's just… we need help."

Rick furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. "And how do we do we get our people back?"

"You're just going to have to trust us," Maggie was the one to talk then, her gaze falling on Daryl. "Can you trust us?"

Daryl chewed at his lip. He gave a small nod, though he couldn't seem to shake the sense of uneasiness that clung to him.

**.x.**

It was soon night, and Esther was aware in the change of atmosphere.

Andrea and Michonne had yet to return to the cage, and Esther was growing impatient. Her conversations with Alpha in the cage next to her was intermittent and the subject varied, with the woman seemingly warning her of what to expect in the next couple of hours or days depending on how long they prolonged the processing time. As the hours raced away from her, she tried to a keep a level head on her shoulders, understanding she needed to remain as calm as possible. If she showed any emotion then they would immediately latch onto it. If she showed vulnerability outside of her injury, she was weak.

An hour passed and the entire stadium plunged into darkness, and Michonne and Andrea were walking back to their cage with a guard. Once they were inside, and before either of them could say a word, the guard beckoned Esther out.

"You're up," he told her. "They're waiting for you."

Esther rose from her feet, her gaze falling on Michonne who furrowed her brow at her wordlessly.

"Be careful out there, soldier," Alpha whispered behind her. "You know what you have to do."

As Esther was about to turn around and face the woman, the guard banged on the cell frustratedly. "I don't have all day, One. You will obey me!"

The guard was merely an adult, with Esther guessing that he was shy of his eighteenth birthday. Standing a foot taller than her, the uniform he wore was a few sizes too big and looked as if it was hanging off his frame. As she limped past him, their eyes met. His face contorted in anger when her gaze met his own and without a second thought, his fist collided with her face, causing her to stumble against the fence. Blood swam in her mouth, and she ran her tongue along her teeth to check to see if any had loosened or were lost. She bitten her tongue during his sudden outburst.

"Wow, what the fuck, dude?" Michonne hollered, her hands wrapping around the metal fence.

"Stand the fuck back," he pointed a finger at Michonne, but she kept her glare firmly placed on him.

It was only when Esther stood back up and wiped the blood from her mouth did she back away.

"Don't worry, soldier girl," Alpha interjected. "Save him for me."

Esther merely clenched her fists together before the guard led her away. She passed cages that held women of all ages, all fearful at the exchange that had just happened, and she struggled with the knowledge that these women had all been taken against their will. How had the world come to this? How the hell was this place going to be destroyed if there were eyes and ears everywhere?

She thought of Daryl then; and her whole demeanour faltered. She felt so safe with him, and she wanted nothing more than to have him by her side now. She had warned him away from this place, hoping that they would see it as a simple mistake, and they could be on their merry way out of that place. But it was far worse than she had ever imagined, and there had been moments where she wondered if she would ever be able to leave. With guards as reckless as the one leading her to god knows where, she knew she needed to be calculated with her planning. It wasn't going to be straightforward or uncomplicated. It was going to be challenging in every sense, and maybe Alpha was right: maybe she was going to have to fight her way out of it.

She was led into a dark room, and once she was inside, the guard closed the door behind her thus plunging her into darkness. As she stood in the middle of the room, she wasn't aware of her surroundings, but she could hear chattering around her in the distance. Esther tried to strain her hearing to find out which direction it was coming from, but it was like a surround sound system. It was overwhelming, almost dulling every other sense.

Just as her vision adjusted to the darkness, the whole room was engulfed in light as a spotlight shone on Esther. She squinted against the brightness, her hand covering her eyes as the sound of cheers erupted around her. Blinking a few times, Esther felt fear wash over her as her eyes fell on a crowd of people all around her behind glass windows, their cheers coming over a tannoy system built into the wall.

In front of her was a cage with young girl inside, with long blond tresses tumbling around her as she laid on the ground. Philip was standing beside it with a menacing look upon his face, his eyes burning a hole into her as he tried to determine her reaction.

"The General saw something in you," he began. "I told him how you jumped to your friend's defence when she ran to me. I told him how you lied to us about your reasons for being here; that you were a vulnerable injured woman who needed a place to stay. And he agreed with me that though you are injured, you're not vulnerable in any way."

The crowd reacted with gasps and goosebumps scattered her body.

"And so, we've brought this forward to prove to us that you are capable of something," Philip continued with a smirk. "I'm not telling you what we're looking for, but you'll know. And to add suspense and a reason, this girl right here can only be rescued and saved if you fight your way through the biters. If you die, so does she."

Philip, with one last wink, walked out of one door as another one was pulled upwards.

Walkers, or biters as he called them, ambled out.

A mix of groans from the dead and excited cheers from the crowd echoed around her, and she looked at the crowd safe behind the glass in disgust. With no weapons on her persons, she was literally being thrown into the lions den.

They were coming closer, and time was running out. She knew she had to improvise. And that was when Alpha's words seemed to sink in.

_But I will warn you… that place you have to go to in order to survive will haunt you for a long time. You will have to become the monster you know you are inside. You might not want to believe you are one, but in there… it will show you who you truly are. It will show you everything you're supposed to be. Are you ready for that?_

The first walker almost pushed his way through the others to reach her and, with her bad leg, she kicked his legs from under him which caused him to tumble to the ground, before she stamped repeatedly against his head until his skull was caved in and his movements became still with what could only be described as gloop staining her bare legs. Cheers erupted around her once more and she willed herself to drown them out.

As more and more dead came to her, she fought against them, trying to aim for their legs to completely take them out, preventing them from getting the upper hand. Once they were on the ground, she was able to manage better. Her leg was protesting against her, and pain seared through her. She cast a quick glance down and noticed the blood seeping through the bandage and staining the white dress.

Two walkers closed in on her and she darted right, jabbing her elbow into the head of the one closest to her. They collapsed to the ground like bowling pins before she took care of them, their second demise at her hands. She tried to calm her breathing, but she didn't see the one that was verging closer to her. It tackled her to the ground, his weight pressing her to the ground, and she struggled against him. His teeth gnashed his teeth at her, his unseeing eyes staring her dead in the eye. His smell invaded her senses and she felt a wave of nausea overwhelm her, causing her mouth to water as the urge to empty her stomach threatened her.

Her mind travelled back to the time when she was pinned to the ground in the middle of the city, her pleading with Glenn to shoot the walker that was about to make her his meal, and an arrow had penetrated his head, knocking it backwards for a second before his dead body collapsed on her. Daryl had saved her that day. She hadn't realised just how much she cared for him until that moment. That he would've done anything to keep her safe.

Her mind was plagued with memories of Daryl; of how her lips still burned with the touch of his; of how she had never wanted to the kiss to end. All of the weeks that they had spent together had allowed her to feel things again; she was always on autopilot, doing what was best for the country, what was deemed appropriate in order to survive that she wasn't allowing herself to truly live.

She had always told herself that if she was going to die, she was going to die fighting for her life. But today wasn't going to be that day. She wasn't doing this for Daryl; she wasn't doing this for herself. She was doing this for all the women locked in cages like animals, who had been kidnapped or taken against their will.

Esther pushed her thumbs into the eye sockets of the dead man above her; he didn't struggle against her, wasn't vaguely aware of what he or she was doing, but she kept pressing and pressing until her thumbs penetrated his brain. As gloop dipped down onto her face, she turned her head and pushed further, to the point that she was raising her body against the man, removing her thumbs once he was lying on the ground. Her eyes met those of Philip who had entered the room once more, and she sent him a smirk just as she stamped on the walker's head. It exploded underneath her boot, sending brain matter and coagulated blood everywhere.

Philip wiped off the blood that marked his face which was now contorted with anger. "You bitch," he muttered with a shake of his head. "Send them in."

Guards advanced towards her, and in that frozen moment of time, Esther watched their eyes flicker from him to her. Their faces were unreadable as they watched the scene unfold before them. There wasn't a hint of fear, just an invitational smirk as an unknown man closed the gap between her. She noted that he wasn't Simon, but she remembered Philip had mentioned the General.

"You're a nasty piece of work, aren't you?" he sneered as he whacked her across the face.

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout her body, her stomach ached, and her lungs burned as though she had been running for her life for hours. Her tongue was soaked in the taste of blood, unavoidable and stomach churning. She was aware of the hunger in their eyes; a hunger that only she could fulfil for them. Their anger was embedded into her through punches and kicks, and she knew she was growing weaker with each hit she took.

As she rested against the ground, she observed them conversing with each other in the corner and she knew they were talking about their next moves.

Bruised and wounded, her head was pounding from the previous beating. She had fought to the death – whether it was his or her own – and just when she believed it had been the end, it had stopped. She hadn't been sure how long the beating would be, but she had punched and kicked her way through, trying to match their own. But she was ready for them when they turned back to her, and she stood to her feet, her fists poised and ready for them.

Her weakened state and her agile movements slowed which allowed six pairs of hands—rough and calloused with their intentions—to seize her. And Esther knew, when it came down to the fight for survival that there was no honour, no code, and no true winner. Nothing was ever taken for granted, especially when there was nowhere to run.

The blows came in sync; one after the other, relentless for everything they were. But they faltered, with the General's eyes gleaming with impatience and frustration as she kept rising.

"COWARD!" he yelled at her, grabbing her face with such anger. And through the blood that stained her face and seeped into her eyes, she saw her moment. She closed the gap between them; her teeth sneering at him. She grabbed at him, angling herself around him before her teeth sunk into his throat, a yell so bloodcurdling and thunderous echoing around the room. He crumpled to the ground as if his bones were made out of jelly, and the ground beneath him soaked every last drop of blood that expelled from his body until he stilled.

A roar of cheers erupted around her then and she grimaced at the admiration she was receiving. She spit out his skin to the ground and cracked her neck. She pulled the knife out from the General's pocket and she held it close to her body, blade outwards.

The other men advanced towards her, but she was ready. She all but dragged herself towards the cage that held the unconscious blonde girl. She was a fighter, a protector. And if these were going to be her final moments then she would fight to the death.

The room was plunged into darkness then, and confused murmurs escaped the crowd. A second later, the lights flicked back on and the room was empty of all souls except for her and the unconscious girl. She was breathing heavily, the hits her body had taken weakening her to the point that her bad leg collapsed from under her. Esther scanned the room looking for Philip, but he had all but disappeared. The windows that allowed the crowd to watch with pleasure was darkened with blinds.

A figure came out from the shadow of a doorway on the opposite side of the others, his gaze meeting hers almost instantly. Samson raised his hands in surrender.

"We have a few minutes to escape this area before they're able to get back into this place. They're locked out of this room," Samson told her, his breathing panicked. "She's my baby sister."

Esther turned to the young girl lying on the ground, her hair covering her face.

"I didn't know she was in here until today when I saw those bastards carrying her inside here," Samson informed her, bitterness evident in his voice. "And then I saw you being led in here and I just knew I had to do something."

She was like a caged animal, still in the defensive mode. She was jittery from adrenaline and from the pain that seemed to knock her pain tolerance out of the park.

"We're going to have to move quick," he continued, aware that words were failing her at that moment. "Can you walk?"

Esther gave a quick nod, realisation hitting her like a freight train. He pulled out a key from his pocket and advanced towards the cage, opening it quickly, and pulling his baby sister out of it. He lifted her with ease and turned to Esther.

"We've got to go," Samson told her. "Thank you…"

"They're monsters," Esther whispered shakily.

Samson nodded, and offered her a smile. "But you're not. Remember that."

Esther followed behind him as quickly as she could, the knife fixed in her hand. A loud siren echoed around them and the two of them quickened their pace. He navigated them to an area behind the outside of the room she had been brought to and watched from the dark corridor as guards rushed around like headless chickens.

"On the count of three, we go to the left, okay?" Samson told her. "There's a door that leads outside, I've cut out a part of the fence."

"We're leaving?"

Samson furrowed his brow at that. "Isn't that what you wanted to do?"

"What about the women stuck in the cages? What about my friend?"

Samson let out a sigh. "The key is in my pocket. Take that, get them out. But just know, not everyone can be saved."

Esther retrieved the key from his pocket with a nod. "Thank you, Samson. Be safe out there."

He searched the darkness for her face. "I'll see you on the outside."

As Samson left the darkened corridor, Esther went to the right, keeping close to the walls. She rounded the corner, keeping herself hidden in the shadows. As guards passed her by, she advanced towards the cage she had been inside. As she approached, she saw the widened eyes from Michonne and Andrea as they noticed the blood that stained her body. She was weaker now, beaten and bruised.

"Ah," Alpha said. "You survived it. I knew you would."

Esther ignored her then, trying to unlock the cage as quickly as her hands would allow her to.

"There she is! Get her!" Philip's voice boomed over the shouts and the siren.

"Shit," she cursed, pushing the key into Michonne's hand and squeezing it closed. Michonne understood and moved away from the door.

Philip closed in on her and before she could react, he whacked her across the face with such force that all reality was thrust from her.


	21. 2:9 - Half Truths

Part Two

..

Nine

_Half Truths_

**.x.**

Michonne couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over her as she watched Esther be dragged away by Philip. She'd seen how blindsided Esther had been, how she, herself, had faltered at the sound of Esther's jaw cracking from when his fist connected against it and saw how easily the soldier had slumped to the ground. Michonne was startled when Esther returned to the cage, covered in blood, and Michonne could tell that it wasn't her own. But she had seen the way Esther's eyes grew dark as she observed the arena didn't seem to offer Michonne any comfort.

Michonne had watched mostly with curiosity as a few of the guards had hurried behind Philip, his lapdogs following every command he made. She knew this was a bad place, and it seemed as though Esther had seen the true extent of it. And now they were taking her away to silence her.

She allowed the key to dig itself into her hand as she clasped her hand around it tightly, her watchful gaze on the guards that passed by the cages more so now than before. For every five second that passed, another guard would pass her. It was as if they were all on a revolving belt, robotically in sync.

Michonne knew she had limited time before there was a complete lockdown on the area; and if she didn't move now then she couldn't imagine what would happen to them. She couldn't allow her mind to move to that place, she wouldn't allow herself to lose hope now.

She turned to Andrea. "We've got to be ready to run, okay?

"I'm so sorry… I didn't know…"

"We're going to make mistakes but it's how we fix things that really matters," Michonne told her. "Right now, we have to find Esther and Amy and get the hell out of this place. But we've gotta be smart. We've got to work as a team. I need you to be by my side, not leaving me behind."

Andrea nodded, understanding the warning in her words. "Okay… so what do we do?"

Michonne hoped the woman was ready. "We're going to burn this place to the ground."

**.x.**

Esther knew from the moment she opened her eyes that she was in deep shit. Being locked in a room that looked down upon the chaos and mayhem below her, she knew she was running out of time. She all but dragged herself up the wall, her gaze falling on the groups of people below her running; with those who were once locked in the cages now free and running for their own lives, hoping to get away from the monsters that either promised them safety or had taken them away from their groups against their will.

The room she had been thrown in was a small office; one that held a small desk and a couple chairs. A whiteboard was attached to the wall with markings that now stained the surface.

The tenderness of her body welcomed her back to reality, and she slid down the glass window. She was in a weaker state than she had realised, and knowing she needed to be on top form for when he returned, she had to think logically about what she was capable of doing. The army taught her to fight until death; to know that she had to do everything in her power to make it out alive.

The door unlocked. She remained seated on the ground; her legs giving up on holding her weight. A woman with a long brunette hair tied in a braid entered the room, her eyes falling on Esther's almost immediately. Esther had seen that look in every woman she laid eyes on, the fear and sadness that this was to be their lives now and there was nothing they could do to stop the horror from happening. They had seen her army uniform and the information had spread around the compound like wildfire; the army was finally here, they all cried tears of joy. But she was one woman amongst a hundred men who would no doubt outmatch her. Sure, she could kill a few without blinking but there were others who had been trained for something. This wasn't like a video game that she used to play; there was no checkpoint, no easy way to regain composure and health. This was real.

And she didn't know if she was strong enough to fight anymore. They had beaten her to a pulp; her face and body was covered in cuts and bruises, her muscles ached and protested against the slightest movement, and she was tired.

"Philip sent me in," the woman said, her voice low and only audible for Esther although she had to strain to hear her over the pounding in her ears. "He wanted me to check up on your injuries."

"To make sure he's not fighting a dead woman?"

"Something like that," she replied, kneeling down beside Esther.

Esther scoffed, wincing as her ribs constricted. The woman checked her over with the touch only a mother would have, and her mind wandered back to Carol. The woman would've been dead if she hadn't seen her that night. Every action and every decision she made had helped other people; and unlike the people in charge here, she didn't hinder their fates. She didn't put a stop to their lives, she helped them survive when their future, in that moment, was uncertain. She thought of Andre, of the little boy who had been left behind at the safe zone and she had found him. She thought of her parents, of how she had hoped they were okay and still out there, and she thought of the moment she found them again, the promise to never leave them again on her lips and in her heart. She thought of Abraham, of how he had been so close to giving up and yet he still held onto the hope that his wife and children were in Washington.

She thought of Daryl, of how he had seen her survival, pain and guilt that made her strive for better things in this world and he had understood her reasons for wanting to help others when they weren't able to fight on their own. She faltered; her throat tight as tears stung her eyes.

"They took this place from us," the woman spoke quietly. "It was a distribution centre for the city, to help provide shelter for people, to offer them safety from the outside world. They rolled in and trampled on everything we had built here. There were no cages, no guards. It was… a good place before they destroyed it and made it this way."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The woman shrugged. "If I could bring that place back to what it was… it would be because you helped me achieve that…" she reached for Esther's hand and slid a cold metal object into it. She folded over her hand. "I'm Mary."

Esther glanced down at the object in her hand then at the woman. "You want me to kill him with a scalpel?"

"It's all I have," Mary whispered desperately. "He's going to come back in a minute. Can you help me?"

"Do me a favour when all this is over... keep finding the good in things," Esther told her, to which Mary nodded. "This world needs more good, whether it's here or not."

Mary nodded sadly. "Will you help?"

Esther searched her eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded. "I don't have anything else to lose."

Mary offered her a reassuring smile. "Neither do I."

**.x.**

When Philip entered the room, he was expecting to see her prepared to fight him. He was half expecting her to be hidden in the shadows, poised and ready to strike as soon as he entered the room. But what he didn't expect to find was her sat on the ground, her head resting against the wall behind her, her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Well, you do disappoint me," Philip muttered, closing the door behind him. "I was hoping for a fight, to be honest. You gave the others a run for the money. The damage you've caused is irreparable."

Esther watched as he pulled a chair out to sit in front of her. But instead, he pulled her up and pushed her into the chair, her gaze watching the madness unravel below them. He grabbed her face tightly, forcing her to stare out at the arena below. A fire was spreading rapidly throughout the entire space, licking and taunting innocent people still locked inside the cages.

"This is the damage you've caused," he whispered in her ear, and she shuddered internally. "Aren't you proud?"

She fought against him. "You did all this. Not me… _you_."

He yanked her up, kicking the chair away with ease, and grabbed her face to look at him. He moved closer to her, his lips only briefly touching hers before she forced her face away from him. He seethed at the rejection and slapped her across the face. She faltered, taking the opportunity to push herself away from him.

"You're going to regret that, _bitch_," he seethed, advancing towards her. He grabbed her, his hands wrapping around her throat as all the air within her was knocked out of her. She fell against the floor hard and she straddled her, gaining the upper hand.

But as his gaze lifted to the whiteboard fixed to the wall, he groaned. On the board, written in her scrawl, was: **_nice try, asshole._**

With his attention focussed on something else, she struggled against him as she tried to grab the scalpel from her sleeve, before she thrusted it into his side. He recoiled in shock and pain, releasing his hands from around her neck, looking down at the glinting scalpel in his side.

"You bitch," he raged.

Esther pushed against him, breathing in as deeply as she could, and pushed the scalpel deeper and deeper into his abdomen. He screamed in pain and thrashed around in an attempt to grab her. Esther lifted herself off the ground.

"I'll see you in hell," Esther choked, moving away from him. The clang of keys caught his attention, and she rushed to the door before he could reach her. She stared at his face in the glass panel as she locked the door behind her, as he fought against it.

He punched the door as she raised her middle finger at him. And with one last smirk, she hobbled away.

She began to make her way back to the arena, weaving down what seemed like endless corridors, in an attempt to find Michonne and the others. As she neared closer and closer, she could hear the commotion, the screams and the panic. The scent of smoke was overwhelming as she ventured closer, and as she pushed open the door that led her towards the cages, she could see the chaos that ensued around her. Women were running and shouting for their family members; people—desperately running for their lives—screamed as the walkers closed in around them. Esther furrowed her brow as she realised the place was surrounded by the dead.

A guard stepped in front of her and recognised her, but she was quick to punch him across the face. He stumbled to the ground and she grabbed his rifle before he hit the floor, and quickly shot him. She could see from where she stood that there were women still locked in the cages as the fire raged on around them.

She shot at the locks of the still locked cages and nodded to the women and children who desperately ran for their lives. She saw a mother and daughter holding each other, with the mother whispering to her child as they understood their fates. She shot at the lock, raced towards the cage and threw away the padlock, opening the gate as she did so. The mother stared up at her with such a sadness that Esther felt tears sting her eyes.

"Go now," she whispered. "Get away from this place."

The mother nodded, lifting her young daughter into her arms and running for their lives.

"Fancy seeing you here, stranger," a voice came from behind her and she turned to see Michonne. "You look like shit."

Esther could only smile as a wheeze escaped her. Her gaze fell on Andrea who was standing next to her sister, Amy. Esther nodded towards the blonde sisters with pride in her heart.

"Let's get outta here, yeah?" Michonne said, pulling Esther close to her body and helping her to walk. Esther shouldered the rifle and began to limp out of the arena, with Andrea and Amy leading the way.

But a sense of dread washed over her as her eyes fell on him standing in front of them, and she faltered; and Michonne came to a halt with her. Philip's eyes burned into her as he held his side from where she had stabbed him.

Esther turned to Michonne. "Go. I'll find you."

"No, I'm not leaving you," Michonne urged her.

"It's an order," Esther told her. "_Go._"

Michonne shook her head. "We're in this together, Esther. I'm not leaving you behind to face him alone—"

"—she ain't alone," a southern drawl came from behind them, and Esther turned to see Daryl standing there, his crossbow aimed at the head of Philip. She faltered, her eyes meeting Daryl's whose own gaze wandered over the numerous injuries to her face and body that hadn't been there the last time he had seen her. She wanted to run to him and hold him, have his strong arms wrap around her and hold her tightly against his body.

Esther witnessed the way his face contorted in anger just as his finger pressed down on the crossbow trigger. But Philip was quick on his feet, and she saw the glint of the scalpel just before Philip stabbed Daryl in the gut repeatedly.

Esther released a guttural cry as she watched Daryl stumble to the ground, his dark clothing growing ever darker as crimson blood soaked his clothes, staining his skin. She lifted the rifle and without a second thought, she dispatched the entire chamber into Philip, and he crumpled to the ground beside Daryl. She rushed towards Daryl, her knees scraping against the ground as she pulled him closer to her. Esther rested her hand on his face, his beard stubble grazing the inside of her hand, as his eyes searched hers.

"I found ya," he whispered to her. "I told ya I would."

Esther added pressure to his stomach, "I'm going to get you help," she promised him this time.

"Farm…" Daryl whispered, pained. "Ya'll be happy there."

"I'm not leaving you here…" Esther whispered, knowing what Daryl meant. She shook her head defiantly. Tears escaped her, dripping down onto his face. Esther grazed her lips against his. "We're in this together, Dixon."

Michonne approached them quickly with the horses she had cut free. Andrea and Amy got on the first ones, and she helped Esther lift Daryl onto one and then helped lift Esther onto the same one, before getting on the other one. The spare one raced alongside them, attached to Michonne's horse. Daryl was slumped at the front, his back was resting against Esther's chest, with one hand tightly pressing on his bloody abdomen along with his own hands pressing against the wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding as she held the reigns with her free hand.

Her mind wandered as she stared at the man against her.

She couldn't lose him. Not now. Not when she had just found him.

"Hold on tight, Daryl," she whispered to him. "I can't lose you…"


	22. 2:10 - Enough In Your Eyes

Part Two

..

Ten

_Enough In Your Eyes_

**.x.**

"You should get yourself checked out."

Esther turned to Rick who had come out looking for her. She was sat on the porch steps, the early morning sunshine kissing her bruised legs with the light of a new day. She couldn't remember how long she had been sat there for; she had seen people approach her, mumble something to her before heading back inside. The hours seemed to tick by slowly as seconds or minutes did when you weren't watching time. The night had passed by in a blur of panic, of screams, of uncertainty and fear, and worried glances and unspoken promises.

Rick had been lingering around her for most of the night but had only just approached her. She'd heard him and the others having hushed conversations around her, but she knew there was no way she was able to pinpoint what they were talking out. She had no energy left to strain her hearing, and if she was being honest, her mind was with the man who was currently being worked on by the veterinarian.

Hershel had been a man they had met whilst Esther and the others were locked down at the arena; and had shown them the way back to his farmhouse in order to plan to rescue his daughter. According to Hershel, he hadn't expected to find his son banging on the door whilst carrying his unconscious sister, Beth. Samson had informed them about Esther, how the right-hand man of the leader had taken a dislike to her and had set her up to fight against guards as well as the dead. From what Esther could manage to get from what the others were talking about, it seemed as though their whole worlds collided at the right moment. Samson had led Daryl and the others inside, and they had seen Esther be carried away by Philip.

"I'm fine," Esther whispered, her voice hoarse, and returned her gaze to her bloodstained hands. Daryl's blood was deep within every crevice of her hands, staining her nails and staining her skin. She wrung her hands together in an attempt to rid herself of the images of the night before.

Rick approached her slowly, aware that she wasn't in the best state. He hadn't anticipated seeing the injuries to her face or body when they had ridden towards the farmhouse. The injuries to her face were substantial and startling for many of them, but she had been adamant that Daryl's injuries severely outweighed her own. As Daryl had been carried into the back bedroom in the farmhouse by his brother with Hershel and his daughter Maggie as well as Lilly following behind him, she had remained on the porch, chest heaving from panic as everyone circled around her. Michonne had led her away from the door, directing her away from the watchful gaze of the others and seating her underneath the window of the room that held the man that had come to her rescue. Merle was quick to return to her side, almost warning off the others, and had all but shoved her a bottle of whisky that he had found at the back of a kitchen cupboard.

Merle had returned to his place outside the bedroom, proving himself to be more of a hindrance than a help as Maggie, Lilly and Samson rushed in and out to retrieve supplies around the house they had needed and forgotten. As everyone tried to find something to do to fill the uncertain time, he never strayed far from his brother.

"You don't look fine," Rick told her, an authoritative tone to his voice.

Her gaze rested on Samson who approached them, and she lowered her gaze. She had believed she would never see him again in the chaos of the new world, let alone here at the farm. But he was here, his presence reassuring her that he and his father along with the others would do everything they could to save Daryl's life.

Esther saw the medical pack in Samson's hands, and shook her head. "He needs it more than I do."

"He's okay," Samson reassured her. "We have enough supplies for him."

Tears stung her eyes, threatening to fall against her will. She felt the pain in her chest, the tightness that seemed to worsen every time her thoughts wandered to the man inside the room. "You don't know that," she mumbled, her gaze flicking over to him.

The two men could see the way her lip trembled as she struggled with not knowing how he was. The small titbits of information that Samson or Lilly came to the group with didn't offer her any reassurance. Until she could see him with her very own eyes, she couldn't believe he would ever be okay.

"Is he…" she began but her words failed her. They had been there for most of the night, and they had been working on Daryl for just as long. "Is he going to be okay?"

Samson glanced at Rick then rested his gaze on Esther. She had seen the small exchange; and was nodding to him. "We don't know," he said honestly. "We're working on him and he's responding well to everything but…"

"But shit happens, right?" Esther breathed, her voice exhausted.

"Please," Samson urged her. "Please can I check your injuries?"

Esther offered him a small nod, which he returned gratefully. He sat on the porch step beside her, with Rick on the other side. He began to clean the wounds to her hands first, knowing that to clean and patch up her face would take her some getting used to. He saw the bruises to her hands and arms, from the punches and kicks that he had watched her take in the dark room. He felt defenceless, unable to do anything to stop it. Samson watched for any emotion on her face when he cleaned up her wounds, but she didn't flinch once despite the wounds being deep and painful.

"What happened back there after I left?" Samson asked, his voice low.

"He found me," Esther whispered after a moment. "He knocked me out. I woke up in a room. There was a woman… Mary, I think it was. She handed me a scalpel, told me to help her take this place back for her and the others… and then he came back and… I stabbed him. And I left the scalpel in him… I locked him in…"

"You weren't to know," Samson quickly assured her. "You can't control men like him."

"And Daryl might die because of my mistake," Esther choked. "He found me, and I could lose him."

Samson nor Rick said another word. As Samson continued to clean her up, he was able to see the true extent of Philip's attack on her, from the broken nose to the bust lip, from the scratch marks down her arms and neck to the burst blood vessel in her eye. He applied antiseptic cream to the wounds that needed it before he applied gauze and bandages to them.

"Promise me…" Esther whispered, reaching for Samson. "That you will do everything you can to save him. He doesn't deserve to die."

Samson nodded at her as he stood to his full height. "I promise."

**.x.**

The house was still and peaceful.

What would've usually been a quiet Sunday afternoon that once consisted of dinner cooking in the oven, music playing gently in the background, the morning newspaper folded on the dining table, him reclining in his armchair with a book in his hand and him finding himself lost in it, as his daughters either studied or sewed or went for a walk in the sunshine. But for Hershel, this was all new, as he watched the new people milled around, trying to find something to do. Most of them remained outside, basking in the afternoon sunshine, their minds wandering back to the events of the previous day. He had been working on the severely wounded man for hours now and despite his skill and experience, he was exhausted.

Samson, Maggie and Lilly were all assisting him with the care of the man. Whilst Samson had more experience with treating humans, his knowledge was able to help his son and with their own combined skill, the man was stable. Daryl was his name, as he overheard the man's brother outside asking about him. Samson had ventured outside as Lilly wrapped a bandage around his abdomen, and Hershel had followed behind him.

He was aware of the attention focusing on him and his son as they moved out onto the porch. His eyes faintly rested on the battered woman who hadn't moved from her place on the porch, just below the bedroom window. His heart ached for her; his own mind preventing him from imagining the attack on the both of them. He didn't ask any questions, but he understood what human beings were capable of doing and she was proof of that.

"How is he?" Rick, the sheriff, asked. Michonne and Tara approached him them.

"He's stable for now," Hershel took the lead. "His wounds were severe, and all we can really do right now is to wait."

Samson was nodding at his father, then took the lead. "But he's a fighter," he said, his gaze falling on Esther who was staring at him. "He'll pull through this, I'm sure."

As everyone returned to their previous activities, Samson approached Esther, scuffing his boots against the dried soil at the bottom of the steps. He remained quiet, aware of the untouched whisky beside her.

"How's your sister doing?" her voice was small, meek.

"She's doing okay," Samson nodded, his gaze flicking to her. "She's sleeping the drugs off."

"They drugged her?"

Samson nodded, which caused Esther to shake her head in response. She wrung her hands together, in an attempt to iron out the frustration and anger within her body.

"You should try to sleep," Samson told her, lowering himself to sit on the bottom step.

Esther shook her head. "I'm not tired."

"Your eyes are dropping out of your head," Samson scoffed. "There's a spare bedroom in the attic. Just… get your head down for a couple hours. You'll feel better."

"I can't leave him," Esther said sadly.

"And you aren't," reassured Samson. "Anything happens, I'll come and get you. But he's stable. He's doing better than any of us were expecting."

Esther gave him a firm nod. Samson led her inside the house, aware of the attention she was receiving and was oblivious to. He noticed Michonne motioning towards something, drawing their focus away from her. He was grateful to her, and she offered him a nod in the distance; and they were able to shield Esther from unwanted attention even if it wasn't meant badly. People were just inquisitive, and with Esther being as bruised and beaten as she was, people were going to stare.

She was following behind him slowly, the attack on her body causing her muscles, joints and any movement she made to protest against her. She stopped outside the door that held Daryl, hearing the hushed voices of Merle and Hershel.

Samson noticed she wasn't following behind him and turned to her. "He's okay, Esther. I promise. We're doing all that we can for him."

Esther nodded at him and closed the gap between them, following him up the stairs to the attack slowly. She winced and grunted in pain, but still she climbed. She fought through the pain, the soreness, the tenderness of her joints. He helped her up the last few steps with an outstretched hand which she took in hers and pulled her up gently. He guided her to the bed, made sure she was comfortable before he left her.

And as her head rested on the pillows, she allowed sleep to take her away from the pain and discomfort of the real world.

**.x.**

He was there in the room with her when she woke up.

Sitting in the chair beneath the dormer window, he was staring at her as her eyes fluttered open. Her chest tightened and her throat became dry as she took in the eye patch and the bloody face. His clothes were dirty, riddled with bullets that she had shot him with, and he was twirling the scalpel in his hands. He didn't say a word to her, just simply stared at her, as if he was trying to bait her. In the grip of silent panic with wide wild eyes, pupils dilating at the mere sight of him, heart racing violently against her ribcage, her brain on fire, hands growing clammy. Esther strained her vocals, but nothing came out, but still she screamed, hoping someone would hear her. Suddenly, her body wracked with raw sobs, painful to the core, as fright consumed every cell in her body, swelling them with such terror that it felt as though her chest would cave in on itself.

She'd seen him on the dirt track leading to the farmhouse, had seen him mingling with the others, had seen him everywhere her eyes landed, a sickening smirk on his face every time her eyes met his. She wondered if that was why she never strayed too far away from the bedroom that held Daryl. And here he was, in the stillness of the room, sitting just a metre away from her, the same sickening grin plastered on his face.

She landed on the floor with a thud, sliding her body across the floor into the corner of the room, allowing her to be hidden from him. He didn't move from his position on the chair, simply released a cackle that didn't belong to him. But it wasn't enough to calm her nerves, her nightmare seeping into her reality.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and as Samson called out for her, she refused to move from her safe place. Rick, Michonne and Merle were close behind him. They'd heard her scream even though she thought it was silent; and had rushed towards her in a panic.

Michonne reached her then, lowering herself to the floor. "Esther… what is it?"

"He… he's here…"

Michonne along with the others looked around the room, their eyes falling on furniture. Not another living soul was up there with them. Michonne turned back, nodding. "Tell him to go. Tell him he doesn't live anymore."

Esther wrapped her arms tighter around her legs, resting her head against her thighs. "You don't live anymore… you aren't alive… I killed you…"

"That's it," Michonne reassured. "Keep saying it in your head. He can't hurt you or Daryl anymore. He doesn't have that power anymore."

Esther found herself breathing more easily after that.

**.x.**

As night settled upon the farmhouse and all its inhabitants, old and new, settled down on makeshift beds of old duvet covers and blankets, Esther found herself settling down in Daryl's room. Merle had stolen the bottle of whisky back and had drunk himself into a light stupor in the attic room that Esther had been in. As his snores, reminiscent of a deadly jack hammer, drilled through the house from a distance, everything was peaceful and still. It was enough to calm Esther's nerves, enough to give her the comfort that everything was okay in the world at the moment.

The vision of Daryl in the bed, his torso bare and bandaged, was enough to cause her entire world to shake, to cause her composure to falter. But she kept her gaze on him as she moved towards the armchair in the corner of the room. He was stable, which was everything Esther could've hoped for. He was responding well to the medication they had given him, and it was up to him now. Which didn't offer her any reassurance. Without the support of reputable hospitals and medical care at your fingertips, she had to rely on the medical experts to bring him back from the brink of death with only their knowledge and the miniscule amount of medical supplies they had around the house.

But he was stable. She had to remember that.

His chest rose and fell peacefully, his eyes remained closed as he slept, and his body was still. Her mind was her own worst enemy in the darkness, and she tried to force herself to stop her memories from wandering back to the previous night. Philip had come out of nowhere; she had been sure she had locked him inside the room at the arena, she had felt the weight of the keys in her hand as she walked away, his face in the panel of glass now just a memory. She had been willing to keep him inside that room, to prevent him any chance of survival as the fire raged on. But he had been there.

The glint of the light reflecting off the scalpel had caused her whole world to crumble down around her. And Daryl had paid the ultimate price.

She could still hear the slickness of the blade being pushed inside his abdomen. She could still hear Daryl's grunts of pain as he realised what was happening. She could still feel the weight in her heart when he stumbled backwards, his crossbow falling to the ground, as he clutched at his bloodied abdomen.

The door creaked open slowly which caused her to break herself from her mind. "Hey," Samson whispered. "I wondered where you'd gotten to."

"Sorry… I just…" Esther began, but words failed her.

"It's fine," Samson was quick to reassure her, moving towards Daryl. "I'm just checking his vitals. Makin' sure he's still responding well to everything."

Esther nodded, watching him with a furrowed brow as he did his checks. "Can I stay here awhile?"

"Of course," Samson nodded with a smile. "I'm surprised you didn't come to visit him sooner."

Esther fell silent. "I was scared."

"And that's understandable," Samson whispered, moving away from Daryl once he was happy with everything. He quickly noted something down in a notebook resting on the bedside table. The lamp on the drawers behind Esther offered the room some warmth. "Seeing someone you care about in this state can be… alarming. Especially when you're so used to them being this strong figure."

Esther chewed on her lip. Her eyes rested on Daryl, and her throat burned.

"Be honest with me, doc," Esther began, her eyes narrowing at Samson who came to sit on the bench at the bottom of the bed. "Does he have a good chance?"

"I think so," Samson whispered, reassuring her with a smile. It was strained, mostly from exhaustion. "I'll leave you to it. There's some books in that closet there if you want to keep your mind away from all this."

Esther nodded, thanking him silently. As he passed her, she reached for his hand. She stood and wrapped her arms around him, a sign of her appreciation for him helping her whilst inside the arena. He hugged her back, aware of the state her body was in and the many bruises that were still hidden from her clothing. There was a sense of awareness that passed between them; the fact that strangers were capable of being good to each other outweighing all the hate and monsters in the world.

Once Samson had excused himself out of the room, breaking away from the mutual hug, she pulled open the doors to the closet and searched for a book title that jumped out at her. She wanted something to capture her attention, to allow her to delve into a new world and become lost in its words of greater places. She relaxed back into the comfortable chair, bringing her legs up underneath her.

The hours ticked by, and she found herself deeply engrossed in the book. She read pages upon pages, aware that most of the time she remained on the same page, the words not sinking in. But she was defiant.

A groan sounded from across the room, and her attention was fixed on the man lying in the bed. She held her breath as she listened out for another one; her heart pounding against her chest at the thought of her worst nightmare coming true. It was a possibility, she knew that. She placed the book down, slotting it between her thigh and the armrest.

"Son ov'a bitch," Daryl grunted in pain, which was enough for Esther to breath a sigh of relief. She closed the gap between them, the panic in her chest being replaced with joy at seeing him looking around the room.

"Hey… you're okay, don't move…" Esther said quickly, aware that if Daryl moved too much or too quickly, he could burst his stitches. She placed a hand upon his bare shoulder.

Daryl's eyes wandered over to her, and she saw him flinch in response to her face. The wounds were still raw, and the bloodshot eye was a startling thing to see. "Shit… ya okay?"

"I will be," Esther said with a nod, feeling Daryl's calloused hand find her own that was still on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I feel like I've died a couple times," Daryl said honestly. "How long…"

"A whole day."

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut. His skin was pale and clammy as a wave of pain washed over him. He squeezed her hand as gently as he could.

"Let me get Samson—" Esther whispered, moving away.

"No… I'm fine, promise…" Daryl said quickly. "It just feels like my stomach is made of jello, that's all. Not the best feelin', ya know?"

"I'm so sorry," Esther sobbed, the emotion that she'd been holding in since the incident happened finally being released; and it seemed once the walls that were once holding her up and making her strong collapsed, she wasn't able to stop. Hot, salty tears fell from her eyes in quick succession of each other, falling from her chin and drenching the top that Maggie had let her borrow.

Daryl, shuffling across the bed slightly to make room for her, pulled her onto the bed with him. He held her as she sobbed into his chest. He held her head gently, rocking her ever so slightly as tears soaked his bare chest. A tiny lapse let her pull away from him, her blinking lashes heavy with tears, before he gently pulled her to him again.

Brick by brick, her walls came tumbling down around him. And he was there to hold her, to protect her from the damage, to soothe her in the still of the night. His injuries had frightened her to her very core, and she had truly believed she would lose him.

Daryl placed a light kiss upon her forehead, aware of the cut in her hairline, and he held her from the rest of the night. Her sobs slowed and grew silent, her breathing becoming shallow against the warmth of his body, and he could tell that she had dozed off. He pulled her closer, finding that she moulded to his body with ease, and moved her bandaged hand to rest on his chest and allowing it to rest over his heart so she could feel his heartbeat.

He was alive, and he had to promise her that he would never leave her. Just as long as she remained by his side, he would remain by hers.

**.x.**

**End of Part Two**


	23. 3:0 - Living Now

Part Three

..

Prologue

_Living Now_

**.x.**

"It's me," Esther spoke into the radio. "Again."

She cast her eyes out at the vast farmland that surrounded her; offering her wonderfully different shades of green, from trees to grass to bushes. The sky was a marvellous blend of blue and white, with clouds swirling around as if dancing beneath the golden sunshine that beamed down on her. The flowers in the flower beds surrounding the house offered a new masterpiece each day, changing the frameless scenery of the picturesque house. The warmth of the summer sun was enough for the others to stop for a second to breathe in the faint tones of sun lotion, of fresh flowers picked and placed in the vases, of fruit picked that morning and placed in the fruit bowl ready for them to pick their own.

There was a sound in the distance that had been absent from her memory for a time; the steady buzz of young bees, ready to seek the blooming flowers and carry on as if nothing happened. She couldn't remember the last time she had heard them; her entire life had been so consumed with the end of the world that she hadn't been able to appreciate the little things in life.

"I keep wondering where you are, if you still carry this goddamn radio because knowing you for so long, you would've tossed that thing out long ago," Esther continued, running a hand through her hair. "Are you still out there? Are you still living and breathing? I keep dreaming that I've found you again, that we're reunited, and everything is _good_ again. Well, it was never truly good though, was it, Abe?"

Laughter travelled through the air and Esther searched for it. A soft smile etched across her face as her eyes landed on Sophia and Meghan playing in the distance, with Glenn and Tara chasing them. Michonne and Lilly were sat underneath a tree, lost in conversation. She cast her gaze over to Rick as he spoke with Hershel and Samson about the prospect of them remaining on the farm with them, and what needed to be done to protect them long term. Beth and Amy were seated on the porch, with Andrea and Maggie never straying too far from their sisters. And as the butterflies erupted in her stomach at the mere sight of him, she watched as Daryl and Merle walked the length of the farm in an attempt to regain his strength.

"It's been quiet here since we arrived. It feels like it's been months, but it's only been a couple weeks," Esther furrowed her brow, moving her gaze away from the others. "But everything is… it's feeling normal in a way. Everyone understands the severity of this new world, which is good. But it's nice here. It's peaceful. And everyone is pulling their weight, helping Hershel out with chores around the house. I've even been doing a bit of sewing, can you believe it?"

Daryl and Merle were approaching, and she could feel his gaze intensely on her. They hadn't been able to spend much time with each other since that night where she broke down and he had comforted her, but with fleeting glances and light touches when passing each other. The heat of his fingers grazing against hers when he would pass her would send shivers down her spine and cause her heart to hammer in her chest. They hadn't spoken about their kiss nor about that night, but it was a conversation for another time, she surmised.

He was getting better, and that was all that mattered right now.

"I'm heading into town in a couple days," Esther quickly told the radio. "A place called Roswell. 1100 hours. If you can hear me, come there. And if you're not there, I'll see you around. Somewhere, sometime, hopefully."

She placed the radio beside her on the porch and glanced over at Daryl and Merle as they closed the gap. "I heard through the grapevine that Hershel caught you trying to escape," she smirked, watching as Merle stifled a chuckle. He cast his gaze over at his brother guiltily.

"Blame this one," Daryl rolled his eyes, shoving his brother gently. "Tellin' me that Hershel and Samson had given me a clean bill of health. Ol' man can still run, thought he was gonna tackle me to the ground."

Esther chortled, trying to stifle it as Hershel approached them with humour in eyes. Daryl patted the vet on the back; no hard feelings between them.

"We can't have you out there hunting just yet," Hershel told Daryl, his advice being met with a tense nod. "I've just heard from Rick that you won the vote to train the women to shoot. Well done."

Esther nodded her thanks. In truth, she didn't understand why she was given the task of assisting the women with weapon training, now that her injuries and wounds were healing, she wouldn't want to remain on the farm as much. Merle scoffed in response.

"Ya sure they don't want a dashingly handsome man teaching them?" Merle interjected, his voice as smooth as velvet. Daryl grimaced, having seen his brother pull moves to attract women in the local dive bars.

"Are you trying to get them to shoot themselves?" Esther asked, her face as straight as she could keep it. She heard Daryl and Hershel chuckle, but she kept her gaze on Merle. "We could always use a target if you wanted to help out."

Merle rolled his eyes and gave her the middle finger. Esther simply winked at him.

"Well, I know Beth is excited," Hershel told her, returning them to the conversation. "She can shoot a little but… this world is… I want to prepare her for the dangers out there and I'm assured that you'll be the one training her."

"She's a good shot," Daryl added, with a smile. "There's no one I'd trust more to train my daughter than Est."

His stare was intense, and she found herself becoming lost in the cool tones of his eyes.

"Guys!" Glenn called out to them, causing the four of them to redirect their attention to him. "Anyone want a game of tag? Sophia's it!"

Merle clapped his hands together. "I'll try and remember we're playin' against kids this time."

Esther smirked as she remembered just how competitive he could get. She watched his retreating back and couldn't believe the change in him since the first time she had met him. Though he was still as unpredictable as ever, he was a good guy. He had mellowed out since Daryl had been injured, had become the protective older brother that Daryl had always wished for. It was nice to see how caring Merle was capable of being, without having to put a façade on. No one judged him, and no one cared about his old ways, as long as he was respectful, and he pulled his weight around the farm.

Hershel followed behind after him, deciding to sit at the side lines instead of participating. He couldn't quite remember the last time he had heard laughter around him; with his children growing up and leaving home, he only had Beth at home before the world ended. Even though Maggie would return home every other weekend, he was never included in the girl talk. He hadn't quite realised just how much he missed having a full house, especially since his wife had passed away before the outbreak.

Daryl remained where he was, his gaze following his brother. Esther stood to her full height beside him and smiled as everyone got ready for the game. He could feel the closeness of her beside him, and he reached for her hand, his heart racing as he felt her hand slide in his.

The bruises would always fade, the wounds would always heal, and their group was stronger than ever. Everything was _right_ in the world in that moment, and even though they both knew it wouldn't always be this way, they would always fight for this moment.


	24. 3:1 - Where I'm From

Part Three

..

Chapter One

_Where I'm From_

**.x.**

"Hoo wee, it's hot as balls out here."

Esther smirked at Merle as he leaned against the side of the vehicle. She was loading the boot with supplies they would need on their supply run in the nearest town. "You know, you could help out, Merle."

Merle chortled, his laughter bouncing off every surface around him. "Nah, I'm good, soldier girl."

Esther simply rolled her eyes at him and continued packing the boot. But Merle was right; it was hot as balls out, and she was already starting to work up a sweat. It was only mid-morning and the sun was high in the sky casting a warmth over them. Heat was licking at their sunburned faces, and Esther just knew it was going to get hotter as the hours passed them by. In and out, she told herself; pick up the essentials and get the hell back. No dawdling, just get on with the task at hand. She wasn't sure why she had picked the short straw when it came to be heading out on a supply run into town with Merle.

But at least she would have Samson with her. And even though the doctor hadn't been as experienced out in the real world, he knew what they were truly looking for.

Once Esther was finished with packing the car with the supplies they needed, her gaze fell on Daryl as he stood on the porch, protected from the blaring sunshine. She could tell he was impatient with his healing process; even though he knew it would take time for his injuries to heal, he wanted to be out there. He hated being stuck in the house and under the watchful eye of Hershel who seemed to monitor every little thing he did; he hated being observed from afar and knowing Hershel was never far behind him.

He whistled, capturing his brother's attention. Merle stepped over to him without a second thought. Esther began chatting to Samson who approached her, ready and prepared for the supply run. She could tell he was nervous but it was best he came out with them; he knew what they needed and he knew where they were headed.

"Ya look after them out there, okay?" Daryl warned his brother once he neared him. He nodded towards Esther and Samson in conversation.

Merle smirked, following his brother's gaze. "Ya know, I know ya. Ya got a little crush on her, haven't ya?"

Daryl rolled his eyes, tempted to give his brother the middle finger but he refrained with a sigh.

"Hoo wee, little brother got a crush on soldier girl!" Merle hollered excitedly. Daryl whacked his brother on the arm, silencing him with a glare. "Ya want me to set you guys up on a little play date whilst ya balls drop?"

"Ain't nothin' I can say without ya makin' a joke out of me," Daryl shrugged, moving his gaze to Esther. "Just… don't be a dick out there, okay? This group is the only good thing goin' in our lives right now and we can't afford for ya to destroy that."

"Ya really think I'm gonna just fuck everythin' up for us?"

Daryl didn't know what to say to that, and Merle shook his head. Usually, Merle wouldn't care what other people thought of him, but his brother's thoughts were important to him. To know that Daryl thought that about him was a huge realisation to him. He did mess up in the past, but now was different. He had been given a second chance with the whole end of the world thing they all had going on, and he wasn't going to do anything to mess it up.

"All this 'cos ya wanna get into soldier girls pants?" Merle shook his head and headed towards the vehicle. Esther acknowledged Merle's temper but simply glanced at Daryl, furrowing her brow at him as if questioning him. Daryl shook his head reassuringly.

Hershel and Samson exited the house with a note in the senior's hand. He'd been writing a list of medicines that they would be needing to top up their supply. It was a mixture of everything; some for everyday ailments and some for serious injuries and illnesses. For the now and what could be. He needed to prepare just in case something serious was to happen. As they approached, Daryl joined them, standing beside his brother despite Merle's grunt of disapproval.

"We've made a note of everything we could possibly need," Hershel told them. "But if there's anything you see that isn't on that list, just throw it in as we never know."

Esther smirked and glanced over the list. Her eyes grew wide at the numerous words, not even knowing what some of them did or what they were for. Samson pocketed the list and walked away with his father. She could sense that Hershel was hesitant with Samson heading out with them, but he was a much needed member.

"Ya be okay out there," Daryl said with a nod towards Esther and Merle. "Both of ya."

"We will be," Esther smirked. "Won't we, Merle?"

"Sure as hell," Merle agreed with a clap on his brother's back.

Daryl tipped his head towards Merle. "Try not to kill him out there."

"Can't promise that," Esther winked at Merle. She noticed how Daryl was standing with ease, and he didn't look as pained as before. "It's nice seeing you up and about."

Daryl shrugged. "We got a good doc."

"Wow, all this small talk is turnin' me off. Will they… won't they… it's exhaustin'," Merle snickered, a shit-eating grin forming for his brother who was simply shaking his head at his brother. "Just have a lil' kiss like in those damn romance novels. Let ol' Merle have some enjoyment in his life for once."

Esther grimaced. "That's gross, even for you, Merle. I'm out."

Esther moved around them and slipped into the driver's seat. Merle whistled over to Samson who looked as if hell had just crept up on him. He motioned for him to get ready to leave. Merle slipped into the passenger seat with a sigh. Samson joined them after a hug from father and sisters, and they were soon on their way into the closest town with the people they cared most about in the rear-view mirror.

"He told me to keep an eye out on ya," Merle told her.

Esther glanced at Merle, a soft blush teasing her cheeks. "He's protective of everyone. Ain't nothing special about me."

"Got ya talkin' like us as well," Merle teased. "Got no hope for ya."

The town of Roswell was once a thriving community. With cobbled streets and quaint establishments lining the streets, the multiple businesses situated in and around the main town had won many awards in the past. Now it sat decaying in the hot summer sunshine with no sign of life to bring it back from the death it had endured. The streets now sat empty, the shops now sat looted.

As they exited the vehicle, Esther scanned her surroundings and felt an uneasy feeling swirl in the pit of her stomach. Her uneasiness didn't seem to ease even when Merle offered her a reassuring glance: he felt it too.

"We get in, get the stuff, and get the hell of here," Esther whispered to them, aware of the shake of Samson's hand that held the gun a little too uncomfortably for Esther's liking. "Hey, leave the shooting to us, okay. We need you to find the stuff your father wants, we'll protect you while you do that."

Samson looked relieved and they made their way down the side streets to the building Hershel had told them about as a unit. Merle quickly broke the lock that had kept looters out. Esther took the lead, Samson was placed in the middle and Merle took the rear; the place had been untouched much to Esther's surprise and she had to take a moment to truly admire the place. The pharmacy almost sparkled as the three of them stared in awe at the full shelves.

"We struck gold, ladies," Merle commented with a whistle.

"I'll keep an eye on outside," Esther told them. "Merle, you help Samson out. Try and be quick so we can get out of here."

"You feel it too, huh?" Samson asked, having missed the worried look between both Merle and Esther a couple minutes ago.

As the two men got to work, Esther placed herself outside. The side street was quiet, with the occasional walker ambling pass completely unaware of her presence mere metres away from them. She rolled her shoulders, trying to find something to do to stop the worry gnawing at her. The weeks they had been at Hershel's farm had provided them with the protect they had so desperately needed, but Esther couldn't seem to shake the feeling of dread that crept up on her. It was always the quiet moments of the day that it would always seem to grasp onto her: during the many _family_ dinners they would have; in bed at night; when she would watch the others living a life so far from the true reality of their world. They tried to make their life as normal as possible, and whilst it was practical for them in order to cope, it wasn't what Esther could do.

She couldn't imagine that life was okay. It was far from okay. They were living in the middle of an apocalypse with the dead walking around; it sounded barbaric and it was. She couldn't try to live like they didn't exist.

Noise caught her attention and she slowly turned her head to the mouth of the side street. The footing, as she strained her ears, didn't drag which could only mean the living was around. Looters, hunters, desperate; she couldn't tell. She had to treat them the same now, and as Rick said: kill or be killed. Her thoughts travelled to Abraham and the radio message she had left him, in the hopes that it would actually reach him. Could it be Abe after all this time? She couldn't be sure, and there was no way in hell she was going to jump at the chance of it being him. If it were him, he would find her. He always did.

She kept herself hidden, the large and grimy waste bin hid most of her and as she crouched against it, she could see as a group of four passed by the entrance of the street. Two adults and two children – a woman, a man and two boys. She wondered if they were a family, but she didn't want to find out. The man took the lead and the woman, who Esther guessed was their mother, held the boys close to her. They were eleven, twelve at a push.

Esther watched them pass; they were doing a good enough job at surviving that they didn't need her to intervene. Everyone was on their own path of survival, she couldn't judge them on that.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

"They say staring is rude, you know. Or did your parents not teach you that?"

**.x.**

Merle Dixon was a smart man most of the time. He was street wise, he knew when to trust someone and he understood the dangers of the world that always welcomed him back regardless of whether it was the right decision on his part. He had fucked up a lot in his life; and his brother, despite all of that, still remained by his side. As a child, he had been at the receiving end of his fathers anger and frustration. He took his fathers fists without another word and always—_always—_tried to protect his brother from his father. He had done a fairly good job of that before he decided he was going into the military to vent his own frustration out on the world.

He knew leaving Daryl behind could either benefit the boy or simply force him to grow up. Without him, he could be safe or he could be in grave danger. And selfishly—in his own eyes—he left his brother behind because he would've done something bad, something permanent, and he would leave Daryl behind for good with the only way of seeing him being through a glass screen as he lived the rest of his years in prison. The boy was young but he was smart, and he had stopped Merle from killing his father many times.

But Daryl had become his fathers punching bag, taking Merle's place as soon as he left. After six months in the military, he went AWOL after receiving a letter from his mother pleading with him to return. He understood her words came from desperation and fear. He returned a man—in his father's words—and finally stood up to his father. Nose to nose, he ordered his father to leave, not truly realising what his father had planned.

His mother fed her demons with alcohol and drugs, and every night, she would drink herself into a slumber. Daryl and Merle would always grab the bottle from her hand just before it dropped to the floor. They would tip it down the drain in the hopes that if it weren't in the house, she wouldn't want to buy another bottle. Or wouldn't be able to afford another one. She had vowed to them that she would seek help, that she would stop drinking and be the mother she had hoped she could've been for them. They had promised her that they would help her as much or as little as she wanted them to.

But they had gone out one night for a couple beers in the dive bar in town and had come back home to their trailer on fire. The blaze had ripped through each room, destroying everything it touched with such velocity that the memories faded away too. Merle had been sure he had seen his father in the shadows; and he believed he was responsible for taking her away from them as punishment for standing up to him.

Their mother had gone to bed early that evening, and the smoke had killed her before the fire ravaged her. The medical examiner stated that she wouldn't have felt a thing but Merle wasn't sure if that were a good thing or not. She wouldn't have been able to scream for help, she wouldn't have been able to fight her way out, or even get out safely. She would've just slipped away, and that broke his heart more than anything. She deserved better than that.

Merle had felt it straight away as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle. He had noticed Esther shiver slightly and the look in her eye had confirmed his apprehension. Something didn't feel right. He had been around the dead for a long time to know that he needed to trust those feelings. It was between life and death and he wanted to make sure he always chose the right option.

"Hey, doc," he called out in a mere whisper. "Hurry ya ass up. I ain't liking this shit."

"I'm going as fast as I can," Samson told him but Merle simply huffed, pacing like a wounded animal backed into the corner.

Merle glanced over at the metal door closed over where he knew Esther would protect them with her life then towards the large windows and main door that had been covered with newspapers. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he was unable to shake off the uneasiness that stirred in his gut. Samson seemed to notice Merle's uneasiness and began to throw everything and anything into his backpack quickly.

"Let's get out of he—" Samson was cut off by the bay window shattering in front of them as two figures collided into the glass in a scuffle. Merle saw in the flurry of movement that Esther had been pinned to the ground with glass shards having embedded into her hands and face as she took the brunt of the collision. The man, bald with glasses, had shoved her through the glass with such force.

Merle, as fast as one of his brother's bolts, tackled the man to the ground, cautious of his footing as he dived over Esther's body. He could hear her panting behind him as he gained the upper hand on the man. The man tried to fight against his hands holding his hands to the ground. Merle turned to Esther who, with Samson's help, was finding her feet rather unsteadily.

"Ya okay, solider girl?" Merle could tell she had been ambushed from her bust lip and the side that she favoured.

"Yeah, give me a minute." Esther wheezed, her chest tight. "Son of a bitch."

Merle smirked before turning his attention on the man below him. "I ain't someone who likes surprises or new people. Who the fuck are ya?"

"Get the fuck off me," the man spat.

"That ain't friendly, is it?" Merle wiped his face.

"What the fuck is going on here?" A voice came from behind them, and Esther was quick to aim her weapon at them albeit a little unsteady. Merle turned to see two women and a kid standing there, their attention on the man who Merle was restraining. "Thomas, fucking seriously?"

"Thomas, huh?" Merle seethed. "Did ya know ya friend here attacked my friend? Tackled her through this fucking window?"

The woman—brunette with her hair in a long plait—looked forlornly at Esther then back at Thomas. "He isn't a friend of ours."

"Ya don't have to say anything more," Merle nodded, before his fist collided with the man's jaw and knocking him out cold.

"I didn't mean that you could knock him out!" The woman cried out.

"Ya lucky he's still alive," Merle told her as he stood to his full height. "Who the fuck tackles someone through a goddamn window?"

"He's drunk," the kid stood forward then. "He's always drunk."

Esther narrowed her eyes at the boy, blinking a few times. He was familiar to her but she couldn't place him. The woman behind him with long, chocolate brown hair looked back at her with a sense of familiarity as well.

"We're really sorry," the first woman approached Esther, and Merle warned her away with a glare. The woman nodded, understanding that her group hadn't been introduced in the best light thanks to Thomas. "I'm Brianna. You've obviously met the whirlwind that is Thomas. And this is Lori and Carl."

"Lori and Carl," Esther muttered. "You were in Atlanta. The department store. With… Shane."

"Holy shit!" the boy exclaimed in shock.

"Carl!" his mother reprimanded him sternly. "But he's right. Holy shit…"

"You guys know each other?" Brianna asked, sharing an equally confused look with Samson who simply shrugged in response.

"It feels like a lifetime ago, right?" Lori commented with a genuine smile. "We thought we lost you back there. He—" she pointed at Merle. "—told us you died."

Samson interjected. "Uh, guys… we need to get out of here."

Merle narrowed his eyes at the newly established opening and cursed. He turned to Esther. "Can ya walk?"

Esther nodded, raising to her full height. "You got a place to go?"

Lori glanced at Brianna who shook her head. "No, we've been walking for days."

"Ya trust them?" Merle asked blatantly. "Do they pass the test?"

"Yeah," Esther said, before her gaze fell on the unconscious man. "Not him, though."

"He may be an asshole, but I hate leaving him here," Brianna explained to them.

Merle chewed at his lip. "He tries any of that bullshit again, I'll kill him, ya got that?"

"Not if I get to him first," Brianna told him, to which Merle smirked in response.

Merle, with the help of Samson, hauled Thomas to his feet and dragged him to the truck, aware of the dead approaching them. Esther and Brianna protected the others as they moved to the vehicle. Once the four of them were in the back of the truck, Merle closed the back and guided Esther into the back seat.

"You called me your friend," Esther smirked.

"Shut it," Merle smirked back at her.

"I thought you hated me."

"I will if ya keep teasing me," Merle said, closing the door behind her and getting into the drivers seat. But it was true, Merle wanted to say. She had proved herself to be a friend of his which was often difficult. He only trusted his brother, but Esther had given him no reason not to trust her. And if his brother trusted her with his life then so could he.


End file.
